Plot Bunnies and Minions
by Hikaru Kosuzaku
Summary: A collection of plot bunnies that have refused to leave me alone...
1. Chapter 1

Plot Bunnies and Minions

Why do they call them bunnies? I've always found them to be more of puppies. Obnoxious puppies that jump around your ankles, yapping at you until you can no longer ignore them. Or maybe they call them bunnies because they tend to multiply until you have nothing in your head but more and more ideas and they're beginning to pour out your ears. But that's beside the point.

I have too many ideas. And sooooo not enough time to deal with them. So I have put them here.

Some have just the first chapter. Some have the first couple of chapters. A few have random parts that aren't part of any chapter. Some even have the ending.

The only thing they have in common? The fact that none of them are written all the way through.

Unfinished fanfiction that will forever haunt me. That, my friends, is what they have in common.

If you find one that you like more than any of the others, well that's nice. Let me know, I might consider finishing it, just for you. Just don't keep your hopes up too high; I may end up shooting them down.

You find one that you want to finish for me? Feel free. Just let me know, so that I can read it too.

Some of these fics are actually what inspired some of the challenges I have posted throughout random forums. I'll let you know which ones those are, as they are posted, so you could possibly go and find the challenge.

A vast majority of these fics are crossovers, because frankly that is what I do best. Or so I like to think.

In any case, these are my plot bunnies, and if I didn't post them here, then they would be forever lost to my computer. Never to be seen in the light of day. And that would just be sad.

With love,

Hikaru Kosuzaku


	2. Alex Rider Fic

**Okay, so this is an Alex Rider story that I started and never finished. It takes place at Brooklands High School and involves SCORPIA. Never planned much after that.**

Alex Rider was a completely normal fifteen year old British kid. He went to school, got caught up doing homework, hung out with friends, he even had a girlfriend. Of course, said girlfriend lived in America, but a long-distance relationship or not, it was still a good one. Alex was on the football team, their star player in fact, and also one of the top in his class when it came to grades.

Oh, and Alex was a spy for MI6.

Perhaps he wasn't as normal as he made himself out to be. However, at this exact moment he was sitting I his history class trying in vain to not fall asleep from utter boredom. The teacher was a king and interesting man, but he had left the class to their own devices as they had finished the lesson early. And as Tom was Alex's only friend remaining and had abandoned Alex in favor of flirting with Jessica, Alex was bored.

He was absently listening to the latest rumor about himself (as most of the school had pegged him as the resident druggie or gangster) when his pencil rolled off the desk. He bent to pick it up right as the window beside him exploded into shards from the impact of a bullet. Alex was out of his seat in an instant, his back pressed to the wall beneath the window. The rest of the class was too busy screaming to notice.

"Get down and against the wall!" Alex yelled, startling everyone into silence. Nobody moved and he rolled his eyes. "Unless, of course, you want to die," he added. The kids all scrambled to join him against the wall.

Another bullet joined the one in the wall, and Alex gave a disgusted sigh. "I hate snipers," he muttered to himself, but everyone heard in the silence of the room. He snagged his backpack with his foot, pulling it over an tossing the phone to Tom. "Speed dial 3 will get the bank," he said. "Let them know what's happening and ask for backup."

Rick Jones, Alex's biggest antagonist at the school, sneered. "What do you expect a bank to be able to do?"

But Tom had already hung up, tossing the phone back. "They're calling in K-Unit among others. They've also given you complete control over anything you have to do, so long as no civilians are harmed."

"Good," Alex stated, although he wasn't too pleased with having to deal with K-Unit again. He pulled a case from his bag, opening it to reveal a gun, silencer, and a large array of bullets. A girl gave a short shriek as he pulled out the weapon, screwed on the silencer, and loaded the bullets.

"You really are a gangster, aren't you?" one of the kids asked incredulously.

The teacher finally seemed to find a voice. "You can't have a weapon at school!"

Alex rolled his eyes. "Gangs don't usually send snipers." He looked at his gun and sighed. "What I would give for a rifle right now…" He shifted slightly, glad the glass he been made to shatter on impact, otherwise there would be a lot more injuries. He rolled to his knees, still carefully under the window.

"Alex?" Tom asked softly.

Alex glanced his way, a little guiltily. "Sorry. Didn't mean to bring my work with me to school."

"You're going to get shot," Tom said blandly, waving away the apology. The 'again' was clear in his tone.

"Bullet proof vest," Alex countered with a wry grin. "Never leave home without it. I've learned."

Tom rolled his eyes and sat back, leaving Alex to quickly stand and fire out the window, instinctively aiming for the flash of light on the roof of the building across the street. There was a soft cry, but Alex had already ducked. Not before he had seen the rest of the black-clad armed men enter the building, though.

**Never finished.**


	3. Gundam Wing

**Baby Dragon Thing Fic**

**Gundam Wing fic. Never finished.**

Quatre woke feeling warm and dry for the first times in weeks. He had been on what should have been a simple Preventers mission and had turned out to be a trap. His partner, a greenie at best, had been killed right off. Quatre had been captured, 'interrogated', and then escaped into a nearby forest, only to pass out three days later from infection.

Shifting slightly, he felt the softness of the furs he laid on, and the weight of the ones that covered him. He heard the crackling of a fire, and the footsteps of someone coming closer. "Oh good," a soothing voice said as a hand brushed his cheek. "You're awake. You've been unconscious for nearly a week."

Quatre blinked at the man above him, frowning at his appearance. The man was old, and decidedly not human. He had red scales covering the side of his face, large wolf-like ears and claws. What he was, Quatre didn't know and the pilot was just shy of thinking he was hallucinating. The man laughed lightly. "Yes, Master Winner, I am real." He held up a finger, scales shimmering in the firelight. "I know who you are and know what's in your heart. I did my best to heal your hurts but some scars may remain."

Quatre sat up slowly, watching the man warily, as he lifted one hand to run fingers along a scabbed over cut running the length of his jaw. "Who are you?" he whispered.

"That," the man smiled. "Is of little consequence. I only ask that you do me a favor in favor in return for what I have done for you."

Quatre frowned lightly, drawing his arms around himself. He wasn't wearing anything but his boxers, and it was a little chilly wherever they were. "A favor?"

"My time in this world grows short," the man said with a sigh. "But my child is in need of a parent."

* * *

It had been nearly a month since Quatre had disappeared while on a mission. The other pilots, Trowa especially, were becoming almost frantic with worry. Their leads all came up empty and there was literally nothing they could do. Until they were called into Une's office one evening, right before they would have gone home.

And they were met with a most welcome sight.

Quatre stood in front of them with a tired smile. There was a half-healed cut on his face, and he held himself as though injured, but he was alive. He was wearing strange black clothing that looked almost like an angel's robe, if not for the color. And in his arms he held a bundle wrapped in a white fur blanket.

"Quatre," Trowa breathed, having to sit down before his legs gave out on him. The other pilots all the did the same, knowing that as tactile as Quatre was, he hated being bombarded by hugs.

"As you can see, Agent Winner has returned," Lady Une said with a small smile as Quatre bent to kiss Trowa, shifting the bundle tenderly. "I figured the four of you would like to sit in on the debriefing."

**Never finished.**


	4. Harry Potter

**Neither can live while the other survives. Even if that's in a dimension where the prophecy never even existed.**

**Different reality**

He stared at the wood floor beneath his hands, blinking slowly. He didn't recognize this floor; Hogwarts only had stone. There was a wall at his back but he couldn't gather enough strength to move towards it. Pain and exhaustion were overwhelming him, and he just wanted to slip away into the darkness. He was so tired of fighting, of surviving but not living.

There were footsteps pounding in his direction. Was that a staircase by his head? He couldn't tell, and he really didn't care. There was a lot of blood. Was it all his? Perhaps it belonged to those Death Eaters? Or maybe Voldemort.

Voldemort…

Two pairs of shoes were suddenly in his line of sight, and he could feel the magic of the two wands trained on him. He nearly groaned. "Who are you How did you get here?" a female voice demanded. It sounded familiar…almost like a long ago dream.

He forced himself to look up, and nearly fell backwards in shock. Lily and James Potter also gave startled gasps, although their wands remained steady. 'Good training,' Harry thought.

"Harry?" Lily asked, emerald eyes gazing at the boy in front of her. He looked so much like her son, and yet still nothing like him. Her Harry didn't have such old, weary eyes and so many scars.

"You're dead. You're both dead," this Harry mumbled, pushing himself wearily against the wall. There was blood staining the floor where he had once rested. "Am I dead?" The hopefulness in his voice nearly broke Lily's heart and she and James lowered their wands.

"No, child," Lily murmured, crouching down. James remained tense, studying the broken teen in confusion "You're not dead."

"But you're dead," this Harry murmured. His green eyes were glassy and almost frantic, but he seemed too weary to move. He flinched away when Lily tired to touch him.


	5. Gundam WingHarry Potter

**Harry Potter Dragon Fic**

**Gundam Wing Harry Potter Crossover. Never finished.**

Quatre Winner gave a small sigh, pressing his hand against the wound in his shoulder with a wince. His partner, assigned for this case as the other former Gundam Pilot had their own missions, had been killed earlier on. Neither Quatre nor the young agent had been expecting to walk into a cleverly laid trap, and they had paid the price. Now Quarter was on his own in a creepy forest, somewhere in Scotland.

The forest itself was giving off an oppressive feeling that was making him feel even weaker. Sometimes, Quatre hated being an empath. "I need to get back to Preventers HQ," he muttered, leaning heavily against a tree.

There was a rustling nearby and Quatre drew his gun, only to remember that he was out of ammunition. Letting his eyes fall shut, he slid down the tree, vaguely realizing that blood loss was getting to him. A hand rested on his shoulder, and he jerked back, the sudden movement causing him to hiss in pain. There was a soothing whisper, and then the world faded to darkness.

He awoke with a groan, blue eyes blinking open in the darkness. "Oh good," a honey-smooth voice said. "You're awake. I was beginning to think you had lost too much blood."

Quatre looked in the direction of the voice, unsurprised to find the speaker hidden n shadow. Figuring his rescuer wasn't about to harm him, he took the time to study his surroundings. He looked to be in the remains of a castle, old and crumbing, but obviously having been majestic at one time. Quatre, himself, was lying in a pile of what looked to be furs, and the floor was littered with jewels, gold and other shiny objects.

"You're Agent Sand, right?" the person asked, shifting slightly.

Quatre started before realizing that his Preventor's badge had been in plain sight. He shifted, noticing his shoulder only emitted a dull ache as opposed to the sharp pain it had been before. "That's right," he finally answered. His voice was raspy, but there was a cup of water nearby. Taking a sip of the water, he eyed the shadowy figure. "Who are you?"

"A friend."

Quatre rolled his eyes. "Okay, friend. What is your name?"

There was a long pause. "Name?" the figure asked, his tenor voice dropping to a low growl. "No one's asked that in almost…" He broke off the words, and Quatre frowned at the sudden sadness he felt from the stranger ."My name was Hadrian…but it's been a long time since then."

Quatre tilted his head to one side. "How long?" he asked.

The shadows shifted, as though Hadrian had shrugged. "Id' say around four hundred years."

Quatre blinked, not having expected that.. "I'm Quatre Winner," he finally said, sitting up. "Who are you?"

"Hadrian," the man stepped forward, and Quatre nearly gasped. It was a teen of about sixteen or seventeen, with wild black hair and unnaturally green eyes. He was small, standing at about five foot five, the same height as Quatre, but looked to be rather fit. However, it was the other additions that caused Quatre's shock.

Blue and red scales decorated the left side of the boy's face, dancing down his neck to be hidden by the black shirt. His ears were decidedly not human, instead looking like a cross between a cat and a deer's, and bright red in color. He had fangs, and his fingers were tipped with tapered claws, scales lining the back of his hands.

"If you can't tell, I'm not exactly human," Hadrian stated softly. He ducked his head. "I understand if you want to leave now, but I couldn't in good conscious leave you to bleed to death."

Quatre shakily got to his feet, stumbling lightly before regaining his balance. "What are you?" he asked, his voice holding only child-like curiosity as he stepped closer.

Shock flashed through emerald eyes before being replaced by amusement. HE had never had that reaction before .Most who saw him ran in fear or tried to kill him.

"I'm a dragon," Hadrian chuckled, his ears flicking as Quatre reached out to touch them. "Of a sort."

"Really?" Quatre breathed, stepping back again.

Hadrian tilted his head to one side. "You're taking this rather well."

Quatre shrugged. "You're not lying. I'm an empath, I can tell." He blinked. "You don't exactly look…dragon-like."

Hadrian stared at him for a moment before shrugging. And then there was a shifting of air and Hadrian was replaced by a massive reptilian form. The dragon was of Chinese form, a long sinewy body covered in red and blue scales. His mouth was full of razor sharp teeth, the canines of which nearly the length of Quatre's forearm. Around the almost cat-like face was a mane of sharp-looking black and gold spikes.

Large emerald eyes stared at Quatre and the dragon took a step forward, butting the pilot with his large muzzle, claws clicking on the stone ground. Quatre shook away the sudden shock at seeing a living version of what he had always believed to be a myth. "That's so cool!" he exclaimed with a bright smile.

The dragon gave an amused huff, changing back into the teen. "You're very odd, Quatre Winner."

Quatre gave a warm laugh. "You're one to talk, Hadrian." He looked around the decrepit castle, and down at the piles of riches on the floor. "Your lair, I presume?"

"It was my first home, back when I was human," Hadrian said fondly. He gave a dejected sigh, kicking at a fist-sized jewel. "All of this," he muttered, motioning to the riches. "They mean nothing. I don't even care about them except that they're shiny…"

Quatre snickered softly at that before going back over the words. "You were human once?"

"A long time ago, yes," Hadrian replied. "But there was an accident and I became what you see now. I watched over my friends and their families for years before they finally left."

"What a lonely existence," Quatre frowned, feeling Hadrian's sadness. He remained silent for a moment. "Come back with me."

"What?" Hadrian asked, startled.

"Come back with me," Quatre smiled. "I'm sure you'd get along with the others." His eyes widened and he gave a gasp. "Shit. The others must be going nuts by now." Hadrian watched as Quatre mumbled to himself before taking a step forward.

"Where do you need to go?" he asked softly.

Quatre's blue eyes snapped up to meet emerald. "London."

Hadrian nodded after a moment. "I can fly you there."

**Never finished.**


	6. Harry Potter fic

**Exile**

**A Harry Potter fic.**

Clara Bouregard gave a start, looking down at the boy who had just appeared in front of her. He was young and injured, and had obviously been sent by the same people that had sent her and her husband, David, years before. The British Ministry of Magic had a habit of port-keying those they deemed as threats to the vast wilderness of Russia. Most people were lost and died within days, usually from cold or hunger. This boy was incredibly lucky to have been found.

Clara knelt next to the boy, waiting for David to catch up to her. She checked the half-healed injuries, wincing at the severity of some of them, and then looked at his face. "Great Merlin," she breathed, just as David came up behind her. "It's Harry Potter."

Harry James Potter woke feeling warm and comfortable. A small part of him remembered what had happened before; finally destroying Voldemort only to be forced into exile by the Ministry, a port-key , and sudden cold. But he could hear the crackling of a fire next to him, and feel the weight of blankets on his body. Giving a soft moan, he shifted and heard someone gasp.

"Oh, you're awake," a woman said, kneeling next to him. She had short blond hair and gray eyes and was smiling brightly. "You're lucky to be alive, you know."

"Been sleepin' for days, ya have," a man with an American accent said, stepping behind the woman. He was tall, with brown hair and blue eyes, his face kind and stern at the same time.

"I'm Clara," the woman smiled. "And this is my husband, David. Welcome to Exile."

"Exile?" Harry asked, slowly sitting up. He was a little perturbed to find himself clothed only in his boxers, with what looked like furs piled on top of him. But his injuries, including the most devastating one down the length of his left leg, were almost completely healed. Although, it looked as though they had healed the muggle way.

Clara nodded, looking somewhat unhappy. "Yes. It's what the Ministry does to those they don't want around but can't throw in Azkaban. Most die within days, as Siberia is incredibly hard to survive in. David and I got lucky that we found this place."

Harry looked around and saw that they were in a tiny shack of a cabin. However, from the chilly drafts he could feel, he knew this place to be a lot nicer than being outside. "How do they explain the disappearances?"

David shrugged. "Usually its small children they exile, and its not uncommon for infants to die. You'll probably be proclaimed dead in that final battle."

"Not going to work," Harry murmured, wincing at the reminder of the fight with Voldemort. He tapped a Celtic tattoo that circled his right bicep. "My two best friends have matching ones. They'll know if I'm dead or in danger. And my guardian is a werewolf, and I'm his 'cub'. He'll known as well." He paused for a moment. "They really leave babies to die?"

"Powerful ones, yes," Clara nodded. "Or orphans with large amounts of money that they want to seize. David and I keep watch, but we're too late most of the time. And they don't tend to survive even when we find them," she explained sadly.

"Why don't you use magic," Harry asked, raising an eyebrow and pulling a fur closer around him.

Clara gave him an odd look. "They snapped our wands. We've been without magic for nearly two years."

Harry blinked, flicking his wrist. His wand appeared in his hand from the invisible holster. "Still have mine…" He shook his head. "Besides, you can never be without magic. The wand doesn't make the magic, it just helps focus it."

**Never finished.**


	7. Scarlet Pimpernell

**Fainthearted**

**Author's Note: So, this is based off the musical version of The Scarlet Pimpernel, not the books (although, as far as I know, they coincide greatly). It bothers me, however, that people seem to forget that Armand had been tortured for three days before escaping. Surely that means that he wasn't in the best of shape, and frankly I would have supposed he would have fallen over upon even reaching Miquelon. So here we have that, with the League being rather sympathetic towards the poor boy.**

**And without further ado…**

He hadn't slept in three days, he hadn't eaten in that same amount. And he was so very tired. So even though he fought against the arms of the solider that held him, Armand gave little hope to the thought of escape. He listened to his sister's shrieks as she too was held captive. Chauvelin was speaking, his voice grating with its evilness and the utter contempt that he felt for the two St. Just siblings.

Marguerite spat something at the man, but Armand was too far gone to really understand anything other than the tone of voice. And then there was pain, as Chauvelin kneed him in the gut and slammed an elbow into the side of his face. Armand gave a groan, slumping to the ground as the arms holding him let him fall. Marguerite gave another wordless cry at the useless act of violence towards her little brother. And Chauvelin merely laughed.

Armand, so very tired and hurt from days of sleeplessness and torture, bit back another groan when the soldier's hand rested on his shoulder. Chauvelin's man wouldn't care if Armand's feet couldn't hold his weight, he would be forced to stand anyway. But instead of heavy handed roughness, the hand on his shoulder remained gentle, and he was allowed to remain on the ground.

Confused, Armand forced his eyes open and turned just enough to meet the eyes of the soldier crouched behind him. Only, it wasn't just a nameless soldier fighting in this bloody revolution, but Ozzy who stared back at him. And suddenly Armand understood that Percy had a plan, and that their men were here, and he let himself relax for the first time in days. He just didn't have the strength to care anymore about what was possibly going on around them, and he welcomed the darkness that was encroaching on his vision.

Marguerite watched in slight confusion as well, as some of the soldiers shifted uneasily when Armand fell, and how the soldier who was in charge of her brother merely let him lay, unbound. And then Percy divested himself of his disguise and Marguerite didn't bother to hold back a gasp as her husband and Chauvelin began a duel.

The clashing of metal on metal rang through the small sea-port of Miquelon, the soldiers all shifted again as the two enemies ran at each other. Ozzy made quick work of wrapping an arm around the senseless Armand and pulling him out of the way of the swords and feet. The boy was completely limp by this point, but he didn't weigh much so he wasn't difficult to manhandle. Ozzy kept a hold of him though, making sure to look as though he were containing a prisoner, instead of holding a friend.

**And this is how far I got...**


	8. Harry Potter LotR

**Lord of the Rings Harry Potter Crossover. Never finished.**

Harry Potter was only seventeen when he struck down the darkest wizard to ever walk the Earth. But with that final victory came pain of indescribable agony. He lost everyone he had ever loved, and had watched them die through Voldemort's eyes. He had been held captive for nearly two months and had been tortured mercilessly. Until he had finally snapped and destroyed all the evil that stood in his way.

Magic, it seemed, bowed to him now, instead of the other way around.

He stood in what remained of Hogwarts, among the dead and dying, seeing nothing. He was naught but a broken soul now, and he was waiting to die. But instead of death, he found himself engulfed by a light brighter than he had ever imagined. He looked up to see a group of people surrounding him, looking more godly than any he had seen.

"Harry Potter, we are the Valar," one woman spoke. "And I fear we have done you a great dishonor."

Harry said nothing, no longer caring. A man stepped forward. "You are not of this world. You are of Middle Earth. An Elven prince whose life was cut short. In an attempt to save you we placed you on Earth, but perhaps death would have been better for you."

"We have agreed to send you back to your father. You will be a young elfling, hardly older than the day you were taken from him. But I warn you, darkness if falling on that world. You, though, are Elenion, a bringer of hope to those that need it most."

Harry stared at them, silence reigning. He could find no words to speak and frankly didn't care anymore anyway. If he was doomed to continue existing, than he would exist. And perhaps he would eventually find peace.

There was another flash of light and Harry found himself lying on stone. He was smaller than he used to be, although still in a lot of pain from injuries that the Death Eaters had inflicted. His clothing was much too large, except for the strange cloak that he was wearing. Discarding his pants, he kept the huge shirt on, figuring it covered enough of him as it fell to his knees. He scurried off, pressing himself against the wall of the cave, for that's what he thought it to be, when he heard footsteps of people nearby.

He hid his face and sunk deeper into the shadows when nine travelers stopped nearby. Studying them for a moment, he was surprised to find that two of them were actually rather familiar, and another reminded him greatly of Dumbledore. But it was the blond one, with the pointy ears, that he felt the largest link to.

Chapter One

Legolas leaned against the rock, blue eyes peering into the darkness of the mines as he checked over his arrows. They were resting as Gandalf tried to remember the way out of this dark labyrinth. The hobbits had huddled together, listening as Sam told of the Shire and the girl he had left there. A pang went through the Elf's heart as he remembered his own love, his beautiful wife and darling son, whom he had lost nearly fifteen years earlier to an orc attack. An Elf could die of a broken heart, and Legolas nearly had, but Aragorn and his two twin brothers, Elladan and Elrohir, hadn't let him succumb to the grief. They had given him reason to keep on living. And besides, as Prince of Mirkwood, he couldn't very well give up.

His sharp eyes picked up the sight of Gollum, and he heard Gandalf explaining the creature to Frodo. As long as the wizard was aware of the being, Legolas would let it go. He placed the arrow back in his quiver and then frowned as he picked up another noise that didn't belong. He straightened, taking a few steps away from the group. He raised a hand at Aragorn's call, leaping over a fallen pillar to find a small bundle huddled against the wall. It looked like little more than a quivering cloak, a small, pale hand reaching from the folds to grasp at rock.

Legolas knelt near the child, for that's all this could be, and held out a hand, unable to see its face through the shadows of the cowl. He whispered a soothing word in Elvish and waited patiently for the child to take his hand. The trembling didn't still, and the being went rigid when Legolas gently lifted him, but the Elf didn't let that deter him.

"Legolas?" Aragorn asked as his friend rejoined their group. "What do you have?"

"A child," Legolas answered, sounding as perplexed as Aragorn looked. How a child had come to be in the mines was a mystery, especially with orcs and goblins about. The Elf set the small bundle down near the fire. He reached out and gently lowered the hood, only to fall back on his rear in an un-elfly move with a gasp. "Elenion?"

Aragorn froze, turning to study the child, who did indeed look remarkably like Legolas's dead son. He caught Gandalf's gaze and shrugged, taking a few steps closer to the elfling. Dark, silky black hair falling nearly to his waist, large emerald eyes set in a face pale as snow. The child could be none other than Elenion. He knelt next to the child, frowning when Elenion flinched away from him.

"Peace child, you are hurt and I wish to help," he murmured. Some part of Elenion must have recognized him because he didn't run like Aragorn was expecting. He did give a small whimper though when Aragorn removed the cloak and the large shirt he was wearing, leaving him naked and vulnerable.

Aragorn's eyes hardened as he took in the battered and scarred state of the child. There were whip marks along his back, wounds from shackles on his wrists and ankles. The elfling had at least one broken rib, if not more, and was practically skin and bone. There were shallow cuts patterning his chest and arms, circles and swirls meant to cause pain. And if there was any doubt that this child was Legolas's son it was lost at the sight of the leaf-shaped birthmark that adorned the boy's shoulder blade, a mark that all the royal Wood Elves were born with. "Legolas, I'm going to need your help. Boromir, grab the bandages and any water we can spare."

Elenion couldn't help but panic when the hands returned and he gave a screech, curling up in anticipation of more pain. But a gentle hand took his chin and raised his face. Emerald met with sapphire as he met the familiar Elf's gaze. Legolas gave a small, watery smile, and began speaking of nonsensical things in Elvish. Elenion relaxed as the musical language washed over him, his full attention on the Elf in front of him. The hands returned but they soothed his pain instead of causing more. He hardly noticed as the wounds were washed and bandaged and he was dressed in clean clothing, extras of the hobbits' that were still too large for his tiny frame, and as they wrapped him back up in his cloak.

He did, however, notice when the Elf gathered him in his arms, and he stiffened, struggling against the arms that surrounded him. Legolas soothed him with a soft song sung in Elvish, and Elenion stilled as the music stirred up a long forgotten memory. He relaxed against the blonde's chest, falling into a light sleep.

Aragorn packed up his herbs and the remaining bandages, returning to the main group. He noticed the curious stares from the others, who had obviously caught on that there was more to the child than they had before thought. Glancing over his shoulder he caught Legolas's eye, and the Elf gave a small nod. "Ask your questions," he stated softly, seating himself next to Gimli.

"Who is he?" Pippin asked, looking over Merry's shoulder to the Elf and his charge. "And how do you know him?"

Aragorn hesitated for a moment. "Fifteen years ago, tragedy befell Mirkwood when the wife and son of the Crown Prince were killed by orcs. That child is Elenion, the prince's son. Legolas's son." There were stares and Aragorn felt the glare that Legolas sent his way. The Elf hadn't told of his royal linage, and this probably wasn't the way that he had wanted them to find out. If he had wanted them to know at all. "Although how he is alive and in the mines, I do not know."

"The child is injured?" Gimli asked gruffly, his disdain at a child being injured very clear. Even if that child was an Elf.

Aragorn sighed. "The child has been tortured," he replied. There were gasps and outraged looks at his words, nearly all turning to look at the slumbering bundle against the Elf's chest. "Gandalf," the ranger called, sounding confused. "How can this be? Elenion looks hardly older than when he died. And I myself was present at the funeral."

"Works of great sorcery," Gandalf stated calmly, blue eyes twinkling. There was a very good chance that he knew more than that. "Oh. It is this way." He stood and pointed away from the group.

"He remembered!" Merry crowed, although quietly as so not to wake the child.

"No," Gandalf admitted. "But the air is fresher from this direction." They followed the wizard silently, all eyes keeping watch in the darkness. Legolas shifted his son gently, freeing an arm to be able to grab a knife if needed. Gandalf's staff flared brighter as he declared, "Behold, the great realm and Dwarf city of Dwarrowdelf!" They all stared in amazement at the large pillars.

"Well there's an eye-opener and no mistake," Sam muttered, and everyone was hard pressed to disagree. Gimli gave a sudden cry and ran ahead of the group to a light-filled room, ignoring the calls of the others. The others followed at a slower pace. Legolas looked down at a sudden movement in his arms, and met the panicking emerald eyes. He whispered a soothing word, but it did nothing to calm the child and Elenion struggled until the Elf finally gave in and set him down. He sighed, watching as his poor son ran and curled up in the corner of the tomb room, jewel like eyes watching them all warily.

He turned the majority of his attention back to the group, making sure to keep one eye on the young elfling. Elenion, however, was watching Gimli's grief and knowing full well what it felt like to lose someone important. He had lost everyone, after all. He listened absently as Gandalf read from the book, losing himself to the memories that he desperately wanted to escape. It wasn't until there was a crash and a snapped and angry retort from Gandalf that the child looked up again. The boom of drums startled him and he gave a small yelp, backing more firmly into the corner.

The man that Legolas had called both Aragorn and Estel drew his sword, standing in front of him, and Legolas readied his bow. The other man and the Dwarf also prepared themselves, the hobbits standing back behind them as Gandalf gave small words of caution. And then the doors broke and chaos reigned.

Elenion stayed hidden, watching as swords flashed and arrows flew. The creatures they had called orcs were nasty looking, and he didn't doubt that they were creations of evil. He could feel it. But when the troll joined in the fight, the small child was violently thrown back into past memories. Hermione crying, Ron screaming, water spraying all over.

"Frodo!"

"Aragorn!"

Startled, Elenion turned to see the ranger get thrown through the air while trying to get to the small hobbit. The troll had cornered Frodo, and while the others were trying, they were unable to get to him. Aragorn hit the wall and didn't get back up.

In a sudden surge of inexplicable anger, Elenion shot to his feet and ran, sliding to a stop in front of Frodo just as the troll was raising its spear. He heard the Elf's startled cry but ignored it, instead flinging his arm out. Everyone was startled when the troll suddenly went flying across the room, slamming into more orcs. Aragorn stirred and blinked at the sight, shaking darkness from his eyes.

Emerald eyes glowing with power, Elenion stalked forward, his face free from all emotion. He raised a hand again, the troll rising into the air with it, only to be crushed by some unseen force when Elenion clenched his fist. The rest of the orcs scrambled with that show of blatant power.

Elenion lowered his fist, suddenly really self-conscious of the stares the fellowship was giving him. He cowered back into his cloak, watching as the group reassembled themselves, checking for injures. "Come, make haste. We must leave here," Gandalf stated, leading the group away.

"Elenion, ion nin," Legolas murmured, holding out a hand. The child hesitated for a split second before allowing the Elf to grab him up and run.

They sped through the halls, hearing the orcs following. Elenion whimpered when Legolas passed him to Aragorn so as to be able to shoot his bow. "A balrog!" the Elf suddenly cried, and the desperation in his voice told of the seriousness. Elenion had no idea what a balrog was, but the sudden appearance of darkness and flame answered that query. It was of such evil that Elenion shied away from it, burying his face in the ranger's neck.

The company ran across the narrow bridge, but Gandalf stopped in the middle, turning to face the beast. "You shall not pass!" he cried, slamming his staff against the stone. The creature gave a cry, screaming its defiance as it fell. And they all froze in shock as Gandalf was swept over the edge as well, with the last words of "Fly, you fools!"

They stared, frozen in place and forgetting the danger they were in. Frodo screamed his friend's name, not wanting to believe the wizard had fallen to his death. Aragorn stood paralyzed, not registering the squirming bundle in his arms, or Legolas pulling on his arm in an attempt to get him to move.

However, a gasp of pain from next to him pulled him from his shock, and he turned to see Legolas standing there, an arrow protruding from his chest. The Elf looked at it in shock, stumbling slightly, a trail of blood running from his mouth and down his chin. Aragorn moved then, grabbing the Elf and dragging him out of the mines after the others.

As soon as they cleared the entrance, Legolas collapsed, forcing Aragorn to put Elenion down to catch him before he hit the ground. The elfling backed away, sobbing soundlessly. He didn't know why he felt so desolate over the Elf's plight, except that Legolas had called him 'ion nin' and he knew (although he didn't know how) that it meant 'my son'.

The others were all turned away, their grief over Gandalf's fall having not let them notice Legolas's injuries. "Boromir!" Aragorn called. "The bandages! Quickly!"

The man turned, eyes widening at the sight of the Elf lying limp and lifeless across the ranger's lap. He raced forward, dropping to his knees beside the pair. "Mellon nin," Aragorn pleaded. "Gwador nin, please."

"Estel," Legolas murmured, blood flecking his lips. "I am sorry…"

"No," Aragorn murmured. "I am not going to lose you now. Not now." He caught Boromir's gaze and the man nodded, holding the Elf down as the ranger grabbed the arrow and pulled it free. Legolas gave an agonized cry, his back arching before he fell limp to the ground, his head lolling back.

Elenion stood away from the rest of the group, sobbing alone. He didn't notice when one of the hobbits joined him and therefore gave a soft cry, scrambling backwards when a hand was placed on his shoulder. He looked up at Frodo in fright, cowering from him before realizing that there was only pain in the hobbit's eyes. He studied the small man—hobbit, he reminded himself—noticing the great evil that hung about his neck. It repulsed him, but he knew that Frodo was working to destroy it. The hobbit almost reminded him of himself, one person standing against a great evil. Alone despite all the people that stood with him. Elenion knew how that felt and was suddenly glad for the hobbit's presence, and he allowed himself to be pulled into a comforting embrace. A small part of him was miffed that he was so small that even a hobbit could easily lift his tiny frame. They rejoined the group, watching as Aragorn lifted Legolas into his arms, cradling him against his chest.

"Lothlorien is a day's walk from here," the ranger stated, eyeing the ring-bearer and his small charge. "We must make haste." He gave the Elf in his arms a worried look and they all understood the underlying meaning: Legolas might not make it otherwise.

They traveled quickly, stopping every now and again for Aragorn to check Legolas's bandages. The last time they stopped, the ranger gave a small sigh, brushing blond strands from the pale face. "He is fading," he said softy, so as not to alarm the hobbits or elfling. "I fear we will not make it in time." He had seen Legolas take arrows before, but never had they been so close to his heart. He found it almost ironic that the elf should be so injured so soon after finding his son. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Frodo feeding the tiny being small pieces of bred. The elfling was allowing none of the others near him, and openly shied away from Frodo as well if the Ring was in view.

"Come laddie," Gimli grunted. "The Elf is strong. He will make it yet."

So they moved on, and within two hours they found themselves within a beautiful golden wood. Aragorn ran ahead of the group, knowing that Haldir often guarded the wood. He called for the Elf, and wasn't surprised when the blond appeared before him. "Haldir, please, Legolas—" he broke off, unable to continue.

Haldir took one look at the Elf in the ranger's arms and gave a sharp whistle. Another Elf appeared, taking the prince and running off. Aragorn gave a sigh of relief, knowing his friend was in the best of care now. Haldir, though, gave them a stern glare. "You bring great evil to our woods," he stated.

Aragorn nodded. "We seek refuge." Haldir nodded slowly but stated they must be blindfolded, not making any mention of the dwarf due to this obvious concern over their injured Elf. They conceded to that, but when one of the Elves got near Elenion—thinking him only a small child—the elfling gave a shriek, struggling against the arms that held him until he got free. He ran off, somehow eluding the Elves and then disappearing into the trees.

"Elenion!" Aragorn called after him in shock. He gave a small groan. "Legolas is going to kill me."

Haldir looked from him to where the elfling had disappeared, back to the ranger, looking as shocked as Aragorn had ever seen him. "Elenion? As in—"

"Legolas's son, yes," Aragorn finished with a sigh. "Do not ask me how it is possible, because I do not know. We found hi m in the mines of Moria. And Haldir, he's been tortured, so be careful when you search for him."

Haldir was silent for a long moment, and then he gave a small nod.

* * *

Elenion watched the Elves search for him from his perch in the trees, which had remained silent at his wishes. He knew that the Elves meant him no harm, but their searching reminded him of the Death Eaters searching the manor after an almost-escape. He wanted to check on Legolas—his father, the thought with shock—and make sure he was okay, but that would require him leaving the tree. He could hear the rest of the fellowship calling for him, and he felt bad for making them worry, but knew that he needed to get his own mind in order.

A whisper of a voice against his mind made him stiffen, and he glanced around in panic. "Be at peace, child, I am only checking to see you are safe." Elenion, though, did not relax. "You have seen much pain, Son of Stars," the woman's voice said gently. "The Valar were right to return you to your family. But I fear the darkness will engulf the land."

"I will not let it," Elenion replied, although he did not speak the words aloud. The woman gave a small laugh and then showed him the way through the trees to Legolas's room. He gave a feeling of thanks and went on his way, wincing as his own injuries made themselves known. Due to the pain, it took him nearly an hour to find his father, having never once touched the ground. The woman had obviously not told the others where he was, because he could still hear them searching.

Elenion glanced into the room, relived to find it empty of all but Legolas, and he silently made his way in. He carefully clambered onto the bed and was happy to see Legolas looking much better than when Aragorn had let the Elf be taken away. Reaching out a small hand, he brushed his fingers across a pale cheek, pulling back when sapphire eyes opened and focused on him.

"Ion nin," Legolas breathed, giving a small smile. "My beautiful Elenion, you look so much like your mother." Elenion blinked; he'd heard much differently over his lifetime, having always been compared to his father. He rather liked this difference. Legolas reached up and brushed the elfling's cheek lovingly, ignoring the child's flinch. "I am sorry, my child, for making you worry."

Elenion shook his head, lying down on the bed, half on his father's chest, being careful of the injury. Legolas ran his hand through the child's hair, and then remembered his wounds. "You are hurt, Elenion Would you allow the healers to help you?" Elenion stiffened and quickly shook his head, remembering when Voldemort had sent in healers to make sure Harry would live long enough to torture again. Legolas frowned. "Would you allow Aragorn to help?" There was a long moment of hesitation, and then the child nodded.

There was a noise outside the door and Elenion gave a yelp, scrambling off the bed and hiding beneath it. Legolas blinked, leaning carefully over the side of the bed to peer at his frightened son. Aragorn and Haldir entered to see the Elf in that position and they both paused. "Las?" Aragorn asked. Legolas glanced up at him, straightening with a wince.

"It is not smart to move so much, my prince," Haldir scolded, despite the amused smile on his face. "Although it is good to see you are feeling better."

"Unfortunately, we have yet to locate Elenion, mellon nin," Aragorn sighed, running a hand through his dark hair.

Legolas raised an eyebrow. "He's under the bed," he said softly. "Your entrance startled him."

Aragorn stared at him for a long moment, wondering how the child could have gotten past all of them, and Haldir left to call off the search. Giving a small sigh, the ranger laid himself on the floor, propping his chin on folded arms. He met the frightened emerald eyes of Elenion, hiding in the shadows, but made no move towards the child. After many minutes of nothing, and Aragorn feeling rather self-conscious under Haldir's amused stare, the ranger gave another sigh. "Come now, Kitten, this isn't good on your injuries."

Legolas gave a musical laugh at the nickname. "I had forgotten that you and your brothers had called him that," he said, watching the ranger with more than a little affection. "How did you explain that reasoning again?"

Aragorn gave the small elfling a smile when the glare at the nickname died away to curiosity. "The first elfling born in over five hundred years," he explained softly. "And your son practically purred under all the attention." Elenion thought that rather amusing, actually, given his animagus form. He blinked at the ranger and then gave a small huff, crawling forward and allowing himself to be pulled out from under the bed.

Aragorn cradled him in his lap, stroking his hair gently. Despite not liking physical contact, the elfling's eyes slid shut at the comforting strokes and he really did give a small, rumbling purr. Aragorn chuckled at that, rising to place Elenion on the bed and tend to the injuries again. Carefully removing the bandages and clothing, he checked over the wounds, hearing Haldir's gasp at the sight. "Well now, Kitten," Aragorn murmured. "You're looking sight better than before." He was healing well, and taking the pain better than the ranger would have thought.

Aragorn re-bandaged the injuries that needed it but forwent replacing the shirt as Elenion pulled away to curl up in a ball next to Legolas. He really did look like a sleepy kitten at that point, and Aragorn gave another small smile. "Sleep well, little one. You as well, gwador nin. You need to regain your strength."

Legolas rolled his eyes. "Of course," he answered. "Although I dare say I'm fine now."

"I've heard that before," Haldir muttered, turning when he heard the rest of the fellowship approaching. "The number of times the two of you have come to us bleeding…"

"Legolas!" Pippen cried, running forward to stop at the edge of the bed. "You're alive!"

"It will take more than an orc arrow to keep me down, Master Hobbit," Legolas smiled, absently running a hand through Elenion's hair and down his back. The child gave a sleepy smile and let his eyes fall shut. The group nearly 'awwed' at the sight.

"So you found him?" Boromir asked, turning to Aragorn.

The ranger shrugged. "He found Legolas."

They all conversed quietly, Legolas and Gimli falling into a friendly banter, to the amusement of the others, before they noticed that the Elf was tiring. His wound may have been healing, but he was far from being at full strength. They took their leave then, Aragorn placing a light blanket over Elenion before he left.

* * *

Elenion was not in a good mood. The fellowship had left yesterday, leaving him behind in an attempt to protect him. He knew their quest was dangerous, but he also knew that he could help. He didn't care that he was a prince, and thought it a little hypocritical that Legolas had left him, considering his father was the crown prince. So Elenion was angry, but he had yet to speak a word to anybody.

As it was, he was glaring fiercely at Lady Galadrial. "You wish to rejoin them," she stated softly, staring at the child who looked no older than three. She had seen his mind and knew he could handle the quest, but he looked so innocent.

As she watched, though, his white Elven clothing bled to black, becoming dark as a moonless and star-free night. Even the metal circlet about his brow darkened into onyx. The only color remaining on his person were his emerald eyes and the emerald cloak clasp, which had changed into the shape of a lightning bolt. Galadrial gave a sigh, knowing instinctively that she could not stop him. Giving a nod, she watched as he disappeared from sight.

Elenion reappeared in the middle of a battle. Hearing the horn of Gondor, he ran towards Boromir. He arrived in time to throw up a shield and deflect an arrow headed for the man's heart. He ran, stopping directly in front of Boromir, who stared down at him in complete shock, and glared angrily at the Urak-Hai. The creature gave a bellow, firing another arrow only to have it shatter in midair, half a foot from the pair. Elenion twisted then, springing forward and ignoring Boromir's surprised cry.

He really hoped this worked and that his animagus form hadn't de-aged as well. But his fears were wrong when the child turned into a large black panther and slammed into the Urak-Hai. Claws and teeth dug into rancid flesh, and Elenion clamped his jaws around the being's throat, ripping it free. He sprang off the orc as it fell, giving a feral yowl as he tore down a few of the fleeing orcs.

Aragorn, Gimli and Legolas ran to where Boromir was, stopping in shock at the sight of the beautiful cat. Boromir looked up, blinking. "It's your son, Legolas," he stated.

"Elenion?" Legolas murmured, nearly dropping his bow as the panther turned towards him. The cat turned back into the child and Elenion grimaced, scrubbing at the foul blood that covered his face. Legolas ran towards him, dropping to his knees. "Ion nin, what exactly are you?" he wondered as he gently cleaned his son's face with a piece of cloth torn from his tunic.

Elenion froze at the question, looking up at Legolas with large, pained eyes. Legolas gave a small, comforting smile. "I did not mean that in a bad way, child. I was merely wondering. There are no Elven Istari and even your skills are beyond that of the Istari I have met." He laughed softly at Elenion's annoyed look, pulling him into a hug.

They turned in time to hear Boromir lamenting over having tried to take the ring, and the fact that Merry and Pippen had been taken. Aragorn proclaimed Sam and Frodo to be on their own now, and stated that they would be going after the orcs and the other two hobbits.

Elenion couldn't help but grin when the ranger proclaimed, "Let's hunt some orcs!"

**Been sitting on this one for years...never finished.**


	9. Alex Rider

**Football Trip/SCORPIA**

He came to in pain, his chest throbbing near his bullet wound. He couldn't feel his hands as his arms were chained above his head, and he was dangling from them. His head ached where the butt of the gun had hit him, but he forced his eyes open. "Oh, ow," he mumbled, wincing as he looked around. He was in a cell, and across from him, in a different ell, were quite a few people that he recognized.

"Cub! You're awake!" Eagle cried happily.

Alex Rider blinked at him. "Hey Eagle. Wolf. Snake," he stopped, eyeing a soldier he didn't recognize. "I don't know you."

"Marmot, my replacement."

Alex turned his head and grinned. "Oh, hi Ben."

Ben Daniels gave a weak smile. "Hello Alex."

The others in the cell clamored for attention then and the soldiers quieted them with a look. "What's with the kids, Alex?"

Alex would have shrugged if he had been capable. "Easier to hijack a bus full of football players than kidnap one person from said bus." He was studying the chain he was suspended from. "Any idea who's holding us?"

Ben grimaced. "Not really. But they want the code to the Mryddin Project."

Alex froze. The Mryddin Project was MI6's ace-in-the-hole. It was a program that, if in the wrong hands, could create economic and political pandemonium. Alex had been one of the key creators of the program, and aside from him only two people knew the code, Blunt and Jones. "And they think I have this code?"

Ben shook his head. "No, they _know_ you have the code. There was a mole."

"Shit," Alex breathed.

"What the heck is going on?" Derrick Smith yelled. He was one of Alex's main tormentors at school.

Alex ignored him, turning back to Ben. The others from K-Unit were shifting restlessly, listening to the two agents. The rest of Brookland's football team was staring in shocked fear, Tom frowning darkly. "The mole supplied the program, I'm guessing?"

"Yes," Ben replied, running a hand through his red hair.

"Alex?" Tom finally spoke up, gaining the teen's attention. "You okay?"

Alex blinked at him and then grinned. "My chest hurts," he admitted softly, knowing better than to lie to his best friend.

"About that," Wolf scowled. "When exactly were you going to tell us you got shot through the heart?!"

"I was hoping it wouldn't come up," Alex said, looking to the door at the end of the hall. "Now shut up." The door opened and two men walked down the hall, stopping in front of Alex's cell.

"Agent Rider," the obvious leader drawled.

Alex raised an eyebrow. "Do I know you?" The man looked oddly familiar.

"You knew my mother, Julia Rothman," the man sneered.

Alex blinked. "Oh. SCORPIA." He sighed. "Revenge then?"

Rothman smirked. "Among other things. WE want the activation code to the Mryddin Project."

"Sorry, can't help you," Alex answered.

Rothman rolled his eyes and motioned to the other man. There was a sudden whistling of air and pain flared across his back. He heard the gasps of shock from his classmates and saw the winces from the soldiers. But he locked eyes with Rothman and kept his face blank as the whip tore up his back. Rothman didn't look pleased and stepped closer, slamming a fist into the agent's jaw. Alex's head snapped to the side and he swung limply in the chains.

Rothman sighed, looking down at the unconscious boy. "Seems I must have his him too hard. We'll come back later."

As soon as they had left though, Alex looked up. Swallowing back the fierce pain in his back he looked up at the chains and again and took a deep breath. He tensed and the swung his body forward, grabbing the chain in hands that were almost numb, and pulling himself upwards towards the rafters above the cells.

**Never finished.**


	10. Twilight

**Brothers and Friends**

**A Twilight fic I started during a rare mood. It's based around the friendship of Jasper and Edward and just little clips of their lives. Never finished it...if it ever had an ending.**

No one had ever said the Cullens were normal. Not since they had moved to Forks, Washington, or rather, _back_ to Forks. Of course, the Cullens weren't much bothered by this so long as the general populace didn't find out their largest secret. The public would panic if they found out there were vampires in their midst.

Or werewolves, for that matter, as the pack lived nearby at La Push. Now, while vampires and werewolves were notorious for being enemies, the Cullen coven and the La Push pack had an ongoing treaty. Along with that, the presence of Bella Swan, Edward Cullen's human fiancé, had tempered the strained relationship between the two species, and formed a friendship of sorts.

However, Bella had gone to Florida to visit her mother for the week, and Edward was bored. If he had been human, he would have slept. S he wasn't human, though, he was currently sitting at the piano pressing random keys. Carlisle, Esme, Rosalie, Alice and Emmett had all gone hunting, leaving him and Jasper alone in the house.

Speaking of Jasper, the blond was leaning against the doorframe, looking amused at Edward's latest plight. Edward scowled at him, and Jasper laughed, walking forward and dropping onto the piano bench next to his brother. "I'm sorry," he murmured. "But it's just too amusing."

"You suck," Edward grumbled, turning away from the Texan.

Jasper grinned. "But you still love me," he pointed out. At Edward's stony silence, Jasper fell against his back, wrapping his arms around the taller vampire's neck. "Admit it, I'm your favorite sibling."

Edward rolled his eyes, giving a crooked grin. That was true, actually. Of the five "children" in the Cullen family, Jasper and Edward got along the greatest (minus, of course, the two married couples). They figured it had something to do with their respective abilities. With Edward's mind-reading abilities, Jasper hardly had to say a word to be understood. And being an empath, Jasper could usually pick up Edward's overall answers through his complex emotions. They could practically carry on entire conversations without ever speaking a word, which drove the others nuts at times.

Jasper picked up on Edward's amusement and grinned. Mission complete; he couldn't stand it when his brother was in a broody mood. "Want to play a game?" he asked. "And not chess," he added before Edward could say anything. "You cheat."

Edward rolled his eyes. "I do not," he groused, pushing Jasper off him and sliding off the bench. "I'm merely using all my resources." Which, of course, included mind-reading.

"Uh huh," Jasper grunted, following his brother to the living room. "Which is why even Carlisle refuses to play with you."

The others would return home to find the two wrestling in the middle of the room, laughing their heads off. It was, surprisingly, a sight they were used to.

* * *

School sucked. Jasper held to that sentiment very possessively. He wondered why he even bothered torturing himself by placing himself around so many humans every day, and then would remember Alice. Right. He was doing this for her and Esme and Carlisle. And the rest of his family that had welcomed him so easily.

They didn't care that he was older than all of them but Carlisle. They didn't care about his scars or his past. And they were extremely patient with him as he got used to this new diet of animals only. And he was pleased to say that it was getting better since Bella had started hanging around. He hadn't had a close call with a human since Bella's birthday, although that had been close enough.

Edward had forgiven him much faster than Jasper had thought he would. The blond had almost killed his love, after all. But Edward had merely hugged him, exuding 'peace' and 'brotherly love' and stated that he didn't blame him. And neither had Bella. It had been bound to happen eventually, and no one had been hurt in the end.

And being around humans had gotten so much easier since then. Although, Jasper had to admit that it was partly the overwhelming teenage emotion packed into the place that made him dislike it so much.

Egro: school sucked.

He obviously wasn't the only one who thought so. When the five vampires congregated in the cafeteria (Bella had returned from Florida only to fall down the stairs and sprain her ankle, getting her a day off school), Edward slumped against the table with a sigh. Jasper picked up on the 'pain, exasperation, exhaustion' that the other was feeling and frowned. While exasperation was a normal emotion, pain and exhaustion were ones that he hardly felt from his family. Unless, of course, Edward's mind-reading had given him a headache again. Being unable to fully turn off his power, Edward was almost always bombarded by others' thoughts, and at times it would leave him with splitting headaches.

'You okay?' Jasper thought. Edward gave a small groan, falling over so that his head was now resting in his brother's lap. Jasper blinked down at him, ignoring the eyes of the multitude of students, watching in shock as the Cullens actually acted 'normal' for once. "Guess not," he mumbled, looking up at his other concerned siblings.

They continued with their usual lunch ritual, conversing quietly among themselves (minus Edward) and Jasper exuding 'peace, contentment' for Edward, who had yet to move from where he had decided to rest. Jasper frowned down at him near the end of lunch before looking at his girlfriend/wife. "Alice?"

She smiled gently, kissing his cheek. "Take him home. Esme's out at the moment, but that's alright."

Actually getting Edward to stand up was more difficult than the vampires had been expecting. Apparently, Jasper's 'peace/contentment' had put him in a state about as close to sleep as a vampire could get. It took Emmett practically carrying him to get the immortal to the car. Jasper frowned faintly; Edward's headaches hadn't been this bad in almost six years.

When Esme got home from shopping for art supplies, she was fully expecting her children to be at school. So she was somewhat surprised to find Jasper lounging on the couch reading a book with Edward curled up on the cushions nearby. The room was almost filled with an overwhelming sense of 'calm/peace/safe' and Edward blinked sleepily at her from his spot. He looked remarkably like a lazy cat at that moment, and Esme couldn't help but wish she had a camera.

Jasper, tasting her amusement, merely smiled and turned the page of his book.

* * *

When Jasper rounded the corner, hand in hand with Alice, he suddenly got a devious plan. Edward was talking to Bella near their car in the parking lot, and therefore was probably blocking the thoughts around him to the best of his ability. Beside him, Alice gave a little giggle, obviously seeing what he was planning. He pressed a kiss to her forehead and began stalking forward.

Edward's back was to him, but Bella could see him coming. He placed a finger to his lips, urging silence, and her own lips quirked slightly as she re-focused on the conversation with her fiancé.

Jasper waited until he was close enough and then pounced on Edward's back. The taller vampire stumbled forward, emitting a startled 'eep' that no-doubt Emmett would be teasing him for later. As it was, nearly everyone, the other vampires included, were laughing. "Hello Edward," Jasper said pleasantly, still clinging to Edward's back like a limpet. He glanced at Bella, who was grinning behind her hand. "Hello Bella."

"Hi Jasper," she answered, her amusement palpable in the air.

"Jazz," Edward grumbled. "Is there a reason you jumped on me?"

Jasper let go, dropping to the ground and giving an innocent look. "It's fun?" he asked. "Besides, you're extremely hard to sneak up on. I'm taking every chance I can get." He dodged the hit Edward aimed at hi, hiding behind Emmett. "Hey! You still love me, right?"

Edward raised an eyebrow, stalking forward. Jasper eyed him for a short moment before turning tail and running off into the woods, Edward close behind him. They were careful to stay at a relatively human speed until they hit the trees, and then they sped off.

Edward caught up to Jasper at the house, tackling him through the open front door. Their laughter merely brought smiles to the faces of Carlisle and Esme, who had been shocked by their ungainly entrance. Honestly, it wasn't that odd a sight around here.

**And this is where it ends...**


	11. Harry Potter Island

**Hellcats**

**A Harry Potter fic that I actually had planned out rather well. In fact, this one has a challenge based off it somewhere. I may or may not finish this one someday...**

Harry Potter awoke to the feeling on lying on sand. He frowned, not bothering to open his eyes just yet as he worked through the most recent of his memories. He had been on the Hogwarts Express, talking with his friends and waiting for the snack cart to pass by. He'd enjoyed the ride home, only to have to go away with the Dursleys upon reaching the station. And then two weeks of complete hell followed, before he'd been awoken by the screams of his aunt one night.

He remembered seeing the ethereal green light of the Dark Mark outside the window before being hit with a powerful stunner.

Groaning softly, Harry forced his emerald eyes open, blinking against the bright sunlight reflecting off rolling waves. And then he sat up in shock, staring at the glistening ocean.

Was he dead? Was this what death was like? Because who had ever heard of dark lords dropping their biggest enemies on a tropical island?

But no, Harry didn't think he was dead, because if he was, then surely his parents and Sirius would be there to greet him.

Unless this was Hell. Which it very well could be, as Harry still felt overwhelmingly guilty for the death of his godfather.

But a groan to his left startled the boy from his train of thought, emeralds blinking through cracked glasses to focus on the prone form of his greatest enemy from school, Draco Malfoy. "Great. Stuck on an island with Malfoy," Harry sighed. "Maybe this is Hell."

"I'd have to agree, Potter," Draco drawled as he sat up and looked around. He gave a disgusted sigh and pushed himself to his feet, brushing the sand from his body. "But if we're both here we might as well work together for now."

"I suppose," Harry muttered, casting his eyes out towards the ocean. He was lucky his glasses hadn't broken when they fell here. Wherever here was.

"Hey, come on, get up," Draco said, holding a hand out to help Harry to his feet. Harry, though, flinched away, startled by the sudden movement. Draco frowned and crouched next to the Gryffindor. "You alright, Potter?" he asked.

"Peachy," Harry mumbled, and then struggled to his feet, wincing slightly.

"Yeah," Draco replied, straightening. "I can see that." He looked around at all the sand and open water and gave a small sigh. "Well. Seems like Voodletort has decided to change his game."

Harry snickered in surprise at the nickname. "Voodletort?" he laughed, raising an eyebrow.

Draco have him a steady look, his hands on his hips. "Just because my father wants to grovel for a homicidal megalomaniac does not mean I share the sentiment."

"Then why treat everyone the way you do?" Harry asked absently, gazing towards the trees.

Draco considered not answering or giving the expected, haughty reply but… "The last time I had a muggleborns friend my father went ballistic. And she died in an 'accident'. It's safer to just push people away."

Harry gazed at him for a moment, brushing hair from his face. And then he pointed to the trees. "I think we'll be safer in there," he said softly. "If 'Voodletort' did drop us here, he'll probably be sending someone to 'check' on us."

"True," Draco nodded. "But we don't know what's in there."

Harry shrugged, giving another small wince, and Draco frowned. "You're hurt, Potter." It wasn't a question. Harry's eyes dimmed somewhat and he shrank into himself. "What happened?"

"My family…doesn't really like me much," Harry replied haltingly. He wasn't expecting Malfoy, of all people, to believe him; no one ever did. (Except Remus and Sirius, but there hadn't been much that they could do.)

Draco's face darkened at the implications of Harry's comment. Even though his own father had despised him, he had never caused Draco any physical pain. "And Dumbledore makes you go back there every summer?" he asked in disbelief.

Harry shrugged uncomfortably. "He thinks I'm exaggerating." There was a pause. "Besides, it doesn't really matter if I'm comfortable or not so long as I do my job."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Your job?"

"Kill Voldemort."

Draco hesitated and then gave a nod, motioning Harry towards the trees. "So, Potter—"

"Harry," the Gryffindor interrupted. At Draco's questioning look, he explained. "If we're going to be stuck with each other for who knows how long, we might as well call each other by our given names."

"Well, in that case, call me Draco," the Slytherin said softly.

Harry grinned and stuck out his hand. "Nice to meet you, Draco."

Startled, Draco hesitated and then took Harry's hand with a small smile. "You as well, Harry."

They laughed and then paused at the edge of the trees, Harry digging through his pockets. "Ah-ha," he breathed, pulling out his trunk, small enough to fit in the palm of his hand.

"You keep your trunk in your pocket?" Draco asked in surprise.

"Uncle Vernon threatened to burn it," Harry replied "I wasn't taking any chances." He looked around, tilting his head to one side "I hear running water," he murmured.

Draco raised an eyebrow, and then motioned him forward. "Lead the way."

So Harry started walking, weaving between the trees, Draco at his heels. They finally stopped, staring in shock from where they stood on the bank of a river. A waterfall cascade over the side of a cliff, falling into a river that lazily flowed to the ocean. Massive trees lined each bank, their huge branches stretching out over the river and mingling above it. Large vines hung from the trees, dangling into the water, and flowers were blooming on the trunks.

"Wow," Harry breathed. "And here I thought Voldemort hated me…"

Draco didn't say anything, merely looking around. He pointed to the branches above them. "We might want to consider making camp up there… We don't know what lives here." As if to prove his words, there was a sudden yowl from some distant animal.

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Point." He looked around. "You know," he said thoughtfully. "I don't think it would be too difficult to build a shelter of some sort. The bamboo over there could easily be used for floors and walls, and the leaves are large enough to be used for a roof."

Draco paused. "How long do you think we're going to be here?"

Harry sighed, giving a small, tired smile. "Probably a long time."

Draco nodded and watched as Harry set his trunk on the ground. "Wandless magic is ust about impossible, Harry."

"Is it?" Harry honestly sounded surprised. "I found it kind of…easy."

Draco shot him an odd look. "Not even Dumbledore can do wandless magic!" He shook his head. "Doesn't matter. There's an anti-magic ward on this island. Can't you feel it?"

"Yes," Harry mumbled. He flashed a grin. "Catch me when I pass out, will you?" And he waved his hand.

Draco caught him as he fell, barely sparing a glance at the resized trunk. "You're a bloody moron."

"And you're a snarky git," Harry mumbled, remarkably still conscious. He, however, wasn't looking very good. "Ow."

"If you throw up on me…" Draco let the threat hang in the air.

Harry gave a small, pained chuckle, leaning more heavily against the blond. "Nothing to throw up. I haven't eaten in two days," he whispered. Draco's frown deepened and he carefully laid Harry on the ground. But Harry gasped in pain, his back arching, and Draco was forced to help him roll onto his side.

"You have a fever, Potter," Draco murmured, pushing Harry's shirt up and wincing at the sight of the raw welts and lashes that criss-crossed his back. He didn't mention it, but helped the Gryffindor out of his shirt.

"I know," Harry mumbled back. "I've been taking care of myself since I was two. I know what a fever feels like." He rolled onto his stomach, burying his face in his arms.

Draco sighed, soaking Harry's shirt in the river and then placing it against his back. Harry gave a small whimper and shot Draco a questioning look. "Hush," Draco scolded. "I'll start on our shelter, you're going to get some rest."

Harry blinked at him and then sighed. "Thank you," he whispered. "There are knives in my trunk."

"Knives? Why?" Draco asked, moving towards the resized trunk.

"Self defense," Harry mumbled. "Not to be used against muggles."

Draco shot him a look and pulled a foot long, serrated blade from the trunk, giving it an appreciative look. Glancing once more at Harry and seeing he had fallen asleep, Draco moved towards the large patch of thick bamboo-like plants.

Two hours later saw Draco wiping sweat from his forehead. He had long ago shed his shirt, and it was resting beside a massive pile of cut and stripped wood. He had come across some strange mango-like fruit not long ago and was determined to get Harry to eat something. Because, for crying out loud, he wasn't about to let the Boy-Who-Lived die on him and leave him alone here.

"Potter," Draco said, shaking him lightly "Potter get up!"

Harry shot up, backing away and muttering apologies, green eyes unfocused and trained on the ground. Draco felt a sudden surge of anger towards the muggle that had turned the headstrong Gryffindor into this.

"Potter," Draco soothed. "Potter, calm down. Harry!" That got his attention, and green eyes suddenly met his. "I'm not going to hurt you. I just want you to eat this." He held out the mango-fruit, cut in half.

Harry stared at him for a moment and then took the fruit, nibbling on it. "This is good," he muttered, and Draco nodded. Neither of them mentioned Harry's earlier panic.

"Feeling better?" the blond asked. At Harry's nod he raised an eyebrow. "Fever?"

"Still there, "Harry said with a pained shrug. "It'll go away eventually." He looked over at the load of wood. "Wow. You've been busy." He finished the fruit and stood, walking over to the pile. Glancing around, he grabbed a vine and tugged on it.

Draco watched silently and then stood, joining him as they began to tie the planks together, doubling the stacks to add support. Once done, Harry scrambled up the tree with skill that surprised Draco. Harry muttered something about 'practice' when asked, and began hoisting the platform up into the tree.

It was a large platform, about the size of one of Hogwarts' smaller classrooms. But for its size, it didn't weigh much, and Harry soon had it up in the tree and secured on three different branches. He dropped the vine ladder they had made and Draco followed him up, dropping onto the platform with a sigh.

"I don't think I've worked so hard in my life," the Slytherin moaned, covering his eyes with one arm. Harry chuckled, looking over the edge of the platform at his trunk. They would have to get that up here somehow.

Later though, because he was far too tired now.

* * *

Four days later saw them with six different platforms, two with walls and roofs. Their progress though was set back when Harry's fever spiked and left him listless and weak.

"Harry, you need to sit up and drink this," Draco urged, helping Harry drink water from a dried gourd. The Slytherin had quickly figured that they would be here for some time and had taken the effort to make things as easy as possible. He'd searched around their home base, locating all the fruit-bearing trees and the gourds from which he'd made cups and bowls.

He'd had to go further for the bamboo, but it hadn't been too bad, since it seemed to be in plentiful supply near this river. There was a cave in the cliff-face, not very large, but accessible only by one branch of a tree, in which Draco had made a 'kitchen' of sorts. Or, at least, that's where he kept the selection of food he'd managed to gather. He'd even put a fire in there when they'd had a random rain storm, but the cave was smoky from the fire, so they usually kept the fire on the bank of the river.

He was hoping that Harry would get better soon. The Gryffindor had only been getting worse throughout the days, although he'd been eating well when Draco managed to get him to. They'd caught quite a few fish, and Harry was working on building some traps for some small game, like rabbits or birds. They had plans for the unforeseeable future, since they didn't know how long they'd be trapped on this island. But in order for this to work, Harry had to get better.

Draco sighed, rubbing at his face with hands that were quickly becoming callused. He had never thought that he'd be so worried about a Gryffindor before. But he was seriously beginning to doubt that he could survive without Harry. Most of the ideas that he'd been working on had been Harry's ideas, after all. Apparently, when the Gryffindor had been about five, he'd found one of his cousin's books that had never been touched. The Swiss Family Robinson had always been a favorite of Harry's since. Lucky for them, really.

Harry sighed in his sleep and Draco turned towards him, placing a hand against the younger boy's forehead. He gave his own sigh, one of relief, as it seemed that Harry's fever had finally broken. Tomorrow he'd get back to work on the tree house. Harry would be able to join him in a few days, once he recovered fully.

* * *

Weeks passed, and by that point a nice fortress had been built, spanning many of the trees. Bridges had been built between the different rooms, using branches where it was convenient or building vine bridges when not, braiding the vines in order to make them stronger.

The boys were completely comfortable with each other, having thrown aside House Prejudice and discomfort by the second week. Harry's nights were tense with nightmares, and he only settled when Draco was there. As such, the Slytherin had made good on his comment of becoming a brother, even if he had only been joking.

"Hey, Drake!" Harry called from one tree. Draco stuck his head out of the window of their 'living room', raising one eyebrow. "Do you want to check the traps, or should I?"

"I'll go," Draco replied with a wave. He was hoping for some fresh meat; you could only live on fish for so long. He made his way to the descending ladder, and climbed down to the ground. He checked all their traps, giving a pleased smile at the two dead rabbits.

Being closer to the shore, Draco took the rabbits out to the beach to clean them, one again thanking Merlin that he wasn't squeamish. But before he could gut the first rabbit, there was a series of pops and four people tumbled onto the sand.

He blinked, staring in shock. And then he composed himself. "Weasley. Granger. Blaise. Pansy," he greeted softly. "Imagine meeting you here."

The four teens stumbled to their feet, brushing sand from their robes before looking Draco's way. They stared in shock for a moment, a light blush staining Hermione and Pansy's faces. Draco was shirtless and shoeless. So much time in the sun during the past weeks had given him a nice tan and darkened his blond hair to a more golden color. The only thing that didn't fit into the Adonis picture was the fact that he had knelt in the sand and gutted a rabbit without a second thought.

"Malfoy," Ron spat. "I should have known you would have something to do with this."

"Oh shut up," Malfoy groaned, stripping the hide from the rabbits carefully. The furs made for a good bed, once they were tanned. "You think I'd be here if I wanted to be?" He moved to the water, washing his hands off before grabbing the rabbits, their skins and the knife. "Come on. Follow me."

With no other choice, the four teens followed the Slytherin into the trees. "Hey," Harry said, not looking up from where he was working on the stretched skin of their last rabbit. "Find anything?"

"More than I was bargaining for," Draco muttered, right before Harry was tackled by Ron and Hermione with excited cries. He smiled at Pansy and Blaise, who looked just as happy to see him, although not as excitable by it.

"Ow," Harry mumbled. "Thanks for the warning, Drake."

"No problem." Draco turned to the cauldron where the rabbits would be turned into a stew with some wild onions Harry had found, listening to Harry's chatter with his friends. Blaise and Pansy were quiet, just watching everything and everyone with wary eyes.

"Harry! You're making nice with Malfoy!" Ron exclaimed.

Harry blinked at him. "So?"

"So, he's a Death Eater!" Ron cried

"No he's not," Harry said easily, moving to talk to Blaise and Pansy. "How are you two?"

"Slightly confused," Blaise answered, smiling at the teen. He'd never really had anything against Potter before. He then looked around. "Where are we?"

"We don't know," Draco answered. "We just kind of…appeared here. Much like you did."

* * *

**At this point, much of the fic has passed and finished. The professors had been contacted through magical means, all the kids are animagus proficient (with large cats being their forms) and Voldemort and his minions have been taken care of on the island.**

Blaise looked up, staring down the four professors, who merely stared back unable to take their eyes off the boy. He had changed, that much was obvious by his shirtless appearance. His skin was darker, his hair lighter and streaked with tawny brown. His eyes were more cat-like, and he walked with a grace that was almost inhuman. "Hello Professors," he finally said. "I take it you got our message then?"

"Yes, my boy," Albus said with a happy smile. It was so good to know that his missing students were alive! "Can you lead us to the others?"

"Of course," Blaise replied, turning back to whatever he had been doing. He stood a few minutes later, causing Snape to scowl with impatience. The teachers were startled, however, when Blaise threw a large pole over his shoulder, large gutted fish dangling from it. "If you'd follow me," he said, heading for the trees.

They followed, too shocked to be able to say anything, and knowing that their questions probably wouldn't be answered anyway. They stopped at the edge of the trees, when Blaise tilted his head to one side, as though listening to something. They continued on in silence, until Blaise stopped at the river, grinning. "Welcome to Ravenshold."


	12. Thunderbirds

**Instinct**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Thunderbirds. Never have, never will. Sad day for all…**

**Summary: When John and Alan go missing during a rescue, things go from bad to…strange.**

"_Two weeks ago, International Rescue went offline when two of their members mysteriously disappeared from a rescue," Lisa Lowe said into the camera. Behind her, you could see the fuzzy pictures of Thunderbirds One and Two landing in a clearing outside of a nondescript building. The stealth programs on the Birds were working wonders, and all pictures of them were coming up indecipherable. "And now, the Thunderbirds have come here, without warning. Backing them is the Russian military, which means that something big is going on inside that building, and everyone wants to know what."_

Something big was going down in the building.

They'd managed to track their missing brothers to a remote part of Russia, right on the edge of Siberia, but Scott wouldn't be happy until he had John and Alan back home where they belonged. It had been a very long two weeks since the two blondes had disappeared from that rescue. The only evidence of the kidnapping had been the two bodies of the victims John and Alan had been trying to save, and the bullet holes in their chests.

And to think, John had been excited to join his brothers on a rescue for once, Brains and Fermat having decided to take a rotation on Thunderbird Five for the summer.

"What the crap is this place?"

Gordon, for not always having a way with words, was definitely asking the right question. The entire compound was set up as a mix between a chemistry lab and what could have been a torture chamber. There were chemicals everywhere, and tables with straps. Chains were fastened to the walls, scanners and other equipment lying about. But no sign of any people.

"Don't know," Virgil replied, frowning darkly behind his visor. "But it seems like they knew we were coming."

"Let's just find our brothers and get out of here," Scott mumbled, glancing at the data-pad that had been rigged to trace a signal coming from a small tracker implanted in Alan's suit. The tracker had been offline for the majority of the two weeks, only just coming back on for them to follow.

Behind them, the Russian military was searching the compound for people. The world in general had not been very pleased when they'd heard that two International Rescue Operatives had been kidnapped. Everyone, everywhere, seemed to be doing their best to help out.

"This way," Scott murmured, leading his two younger brothers down a darkened hall. They all scanned the shadows warily, but there was nothing there but one barred door. Hesitating for half a second, the eldest Tracy son removed the barricade and opened the door.

All three sucked in a breath at the sight before them.

Two pairs of nearly identical aqua-blue eyes stared at them from different corners of the dark cell-like room. Both blondes were dirty, bruised, and crouched in their corners, recognition not showing at all in their postures. Both of them were still wearing their silver-gray International Rescue suits, although the material was ripped and filthy, and the gloves and boots had long since disappeared. And around their necks were collars, with which they were chained to the wall. John's was loose, although not enough for him to slip out of, while Alan's was tight enough to be causing some difficulty to his breathing.

They took this in all of this in seconds, and then Scott was moving forward. Only to scramble back when John, startled by this sudden movement, lunged forward, his form changing into that of a very large, very upset jaguar. The cat was snapped back by the chain, the collar now tight around his neck, and gave a chesty growl as he paced back to his corner.

"Holy sh—Ow," Gordon mumbled, rubbing his head where Virgil had hit him mainly out of habit. "How's that even possible?"

Virgil just shook his head, face pale and eyes wide as he raised his visor. He exchanged a glance with Scott, but his older brother was looking just as shocked. "I… I'm guessing they were experimented on. But…this shouldn't be possible at all."

A wave of calm suddenly swept over everyone and the jaguar changed back to John with a tired huff. The other three, however, spun towards Alan, instinctively knowing where the foreign emotion had come from. Ever since he had been a small child, Alan had been sensitive to the emotions of others, especially his siblings. His excuse hadn't been much of one, him simply saying that he knew when he was needed. It wasn't until the incident with the Hood three months ago that they realized just how sensitive. Apparently, Alan had been endowed with the psychic gift of empathy, which had grown during that Spring Break. And now it seemed to have grown some more, this time including the projecting of emotions.

But Alan was nowhere to be seen, an ocelot sitting calmly in his place. Scott frowned, shaking himself out of his shock-induced stupor, and taking a cautious step forward. "Alan? Sprout?"

A myriad of emotion washed over him. _Curiosity/caution/fear/recognition/safety/family._

_Family._

This last one had John raising his head wearily, aqua-blue eyes clearing somewhat as he scanned the people in the room. "Scott?" His voice was rough and soft, pained and breathy, but it had his older brother turning towards him and Alan turning back into Alan again.

"Hey Johnny," Scott murmured, moving cautiously forward as Virgil did the same with Alan. Gordon sighed and turned back to the door, knowing that someone had to keep watch while the others cared for his brothers. "You with us now?"

John flinched as Scott reached out a hand, instinctively baring his teeth in a warning hiss. And then he sighed, glancing up at his brother apologetically. "Scott," he mumbled again, forcing himself to stay still as Scott messed with the collar.

"Yeah, it's me buddy," Scott replied softly, frowning at John's fearful tenseness. "Relax. We're going to take both of you home. You're safe now." He glanced over at Virgil when the musician gave a hiss at the bruising the collar had made around Alan's throat, and his frown deepened upon seeing the fifteen-year-old's wary posture.

"Home?" John croaked.

"Home," Scott clarified.

_Safety._

"Right, Allie," Virgil hummed, wondering how 'safety' could possibly be an emotion. But, then again, emotions were complex things, so he just let it slide. He very carefully checked over Alan, gently searching for broken bones amidst the dark bruising and needle-marks that adorned his brother. He bit his lip, knowing that Scott would find the same on John and how much it would anger their eldest brother. Not only was this beyond _wrong_, but John had a major phobia of needles.

Pleased by the lack of broken bones, but not by Alan's overall condition, Virgil sat back and waited for Scott to finish. Alan, although tense and fearful, seemed to be more trusting than John was, the elder blonde almost looking like he wanted to make a run for it.

Not that Virgil or Scott thought he was physically capable of doing so.

"Guys," Gordon's anxious voice broke through his contemplation. "We need to get out of here." The copper-haired brother had lowered his visor again, although his concern practically radiated from him. They didn't need to be an empath to know that.

Scott turned back to John, noticing that his younger brother was steadily becoming less aware. His condition was enough that he should have been unconscious already and Scott was positive that Alan was the same. "We need to go, Johnny," he murmured, reaching out for his brother again. John violently cringed but allowed Scott to gather him up, cradling him against his chest.

The blond had lost a lot of weight in the past two weeks, Scott noticed immediately. Glancing over at Virgil's frown, it was obvious that Alan had as well. Standing, Scott repositioned John slightly, his arm behind his brother's shoulders and the other beneath his knees. John gave a weary sigh and buried his face in Scott's neck, slipping into unconsciousness.

Glancing over at Virgil, Scott gave a sigh of his own when he realized that Alan had done the same. Giving a nod to Gordon, the three left, their two brothers held protectively in their arms.

"_It looks as though the Thunderbirds are now leaving the building and…" Lisa paused, her jaw dropping. "Is that…? It is! Oh, it is! The two missing International Rescue Operatives have been found!" The camera zoomed in on the small group leaving the building, showing the three Operatives that had entered; only this time two of them were carrying two others. They were dressed in the ripped and stained suits, their boots and gloves missing, their faces hidden from the cameras, pressed against their comrades' necks as they were. "They don't look like they're in very good condition," Lisa murmured, forgetting for a moment that she was on camera. But then she shook herself and turned back. "The missing agents have been found and they are now being loaded into Thunderbird Two, probably to be taken back to their base, which we have been told has an excellent medical facility."_

Jeff gave a sigh as he clicked off the TV, running a hand through his hair and turning back to Command and Control to wait for news on his sons. He hated having to stay back at the Island while searching for his missing boys, but he knew that he would only compromise the mission if he went out in the field. His concern would have been terribly hard to hide, and he would have probably ended up giving up some secrets.

"Thunderbird Two to Base."

Turning to the computer, Jeff flipped a switch and replied. "This is Base. Go ahead, Virgil."

"We got 'em Dad," Virgil said, looking away from his watch to nod at something someone off to the side had said.

"How are they?" Jeff asked, anxious for any information on his missing sons. Lisa hadn't been lying when she said that they didn't look good.

"Um…they're unconscious," Virgil replied, moving away from the screen to obviously look after John and Alan. "And I'm keeping them in a drug induced coma until further notice."

Jeff started. "What? Why?" He knew that Virgil would never consider keeping someone in a coma unless the situation was dire and it was a last resort. John and Alan hadn't looked good on the news, but they hadn't looked like they needed that kind of treatment.

Gordon's face suddenly appeared on the screen, and Jeff frowned at the worried look his second youngest held. His face was tight, and there was no sign of his usual good humor. "They're both suffering from severe malnutrition and dehydration, as well as being practically covered in bruises. There's no broken bones or anything, but with what they've been through it would probably be best if they're not awake for treatment." Gordon paused, sighing. "John and Alan are difficult enough patients to begin with but now…"

Scott appeared on the screen, frowning darkly. "Dad, we don't know what they did, but it shouldn't be possible."

Jeff's concern tripled, and he leaned back in his chair, forcing himself to relax. They had his boys, and they would be fine. "What's wrong?"

Gordon and Scott exchanged glances. "Dad," Scott started slowly. "I startled John by moving too fast and he changed into a jaguar. And Alan turned into some kind of smaller, spotted cat."

"Ocelot," Gordon clarified, and Scott nodded, trusting his younger brother. Gordon's fascination with aquatic animals had grown to include most kinds of wildlife. Even if he wasn't as well versed with land creatures, he was probably right about this one.

Jeff blinked, not having expected that at all. "What?"

Scott shook his head, turning away to listen to whatever Virgil was telling him. "I'll be home in about an hour. Thunderbird Two will be about forty-five minutes behind me."

The screen went dark, leaving Jeff to his confused shock.

Chapter Two

_Aw crap._

He'd been drugged again. He'd gotten rather used to that feeling in the time they'd spent with the researchers. Didn't mean he liked it though, nope, far from it. Shifting slightly and shaking his head to relieve some of the grogginess, John suddenly realized a few things.

He was warm.

He was dressed in clean pajamas.

He was on a pile of soft blankets as opposed to the hard ground.

He didn't hurt.

Oh sure, he was sore, but he didn't _hurt._ Memories came back slowly, and most were unwanted, but he seemed to have a fuzzy recollection of Scott. So maybe…

Taking a deep breath, he recognized Alan's scent nearby, as well as some newer ones that didn't belong to the scientists. Ignoring those for now, as they weren't moving and therefore not a threat, John raised his head and locked his gaze on his youngest brother. Alan was still asleep on his own pile of blankets on the other side of the room. He blinked and then stretched, still fighting the lingering drowsiness of the drugs.

A single leap had him shifting into his jaguar form and curling up next to his baby brother. He remembered the first time he had changed, and nearly cringed at the memory. It had hurt. A lot. The cracking of bones and tearing of muscle. Not a pleasant experience and he was extremely glad that it had only happened in that very first transformation for both him and Alan.

He could remember Alan's screams of pain and it was enough to give him nightmares.

After checking over his little brother, the jaguar gave a yawn and raised his head to look over the others in the room.

Jeff watched as John stirred in his pile of blankets. After being kept in the infirmary for three days, Virgil had decided to let his brothers out of the drug-induced comas. However, they had all decided that it would probably be best if they didn't wake up in such a lab-like environment. With the dehydration and malnutrition treated, both his sons were doing much better, although the two of them were still severely underweight.

There had also been no sign of any shape-changing, and Jeff was almost willing to believe that his other three sons had been seeing things. Perhaps the chemical fumes at the compound had gotten to them. But all blood-tests and brain scans and such had revealed that his two blonde sons were indeed irrevocably changed. Although he was still a little skeptical about the whole shape-changing thing, as that couldn't possibly be physically possible.

Jeff glanced to his right to where his other three sons were seated, lounging against the wall. Gordon was fidgeting, but that was nothing new; Gordon had never been one for sitting still. Alan either, for that matter.

Looking back at his second eldest, Jeff was somewhat surprised when John suddenly looked up, his gaze immediately locking on Alan. There was a pause as John stretched, and then he moved.

Jeff sucked in a breath as the large jaguar landed next to Alan, before curling up next to the teenager. So…it was true. Shaking away the shock, he gave a small smile at the way the cat protectively looked over Alan before settling down. John and Alan had always been close. Even before the incident with the Hood, and the family's strengthening of the bonds that came from it. (And wouldn't the Hood be displeased when he realized that his plan to destroy the Tracy family had only made them stronger…) The past year had been difficult for Alan, and his brothers' teasing had not helped, becoming just shy of bullying. And despite being in space, John had managed to shield Alan from their other brothers, often rebuking them.

And John scared the crap out of everyone when he got angry.

After the Hood Incident, the older blonde had managed to make them all sit up and take notice of the youngest and how they'd been treating him. And the way he'd done it had been akin to a slap in the face.

It wasn't easy to get John riled up, but when it happened it had even Jeff searching for cover.

The jaguar looked up, yawning in an impressive show of fangs. Aqua-blue eyes that looked somewhat out of place, despite being cat-like, studied the four of them. There was recognition, which pleased Jeff immensely, but also a deal of apprehension.

It seemed as though they had a lot of work to do to overcome this kidnapping.

Alan gave a soft sigh when he started waking up. He shifted slightly, frowning at the familiar grogginess of the drugs. A large muzzle suddenly pressed against the back of his neck, the whiskers tickling him, and Alan gave a small smile. He tasted John's concern and sent back a tendril of comfort, and the muzzle was removed.

They weren't at the lab anymore. Alan could faintly remember Scott and Virgil and Gordon, and he was warm and comfortable. They were home.

He curled into himself and then shifted, shaking out his fur much like a dog would. Amusement at that thought escaped him and he could feel John shifting. Raising his head, he opened his eyes and looked towards where the other emotions in the room were coming from.

Concern, apprehension, love.

Scott moved slightly, and John pulled back with a sudden irrational 'fear' that had Alan looking up at the much larger cat. He tilted his head to one side, studying his brother-cat. John couldn't feel their family's intentions like Alan could, and while his heart knew that they would never hurt them, his brain was having a harder time accepting that.

Gordon frowned when Scott's slight movement startled John into pulling back. John had always been the calm, collected one in the family, and to see him so skittish was disturbing. Alan, though, was somewhat amusing as the Sprout was just so darn cute as a cat. He glanced at his brothers and father, who were all frowning in concern as Alan and John seemed to hold some kind of growly cat-conversation.

Alan surprised everyone, John included, by raising one paw and bopping John on the nose with it. The action had Gordon bursting into laughter, which startled both cats, although John more so, and had Virgil chuckling under his breath.

Jeff looked over all his boys, the currently feline ones included, and gave a sigh, shaking his head. They would get through this, because they were a family.

And, more than that, they were Tracys.

End Chapter

Chapter Next

"School starts in two weeks," Jeff softly told his eldest. "Do you think Alan will be ready, or even willing to go?"

Scott frowned in thought, watching Gordon do laps in the pool from his spot on a lounger. John was curled up on the same lounger, pressed against Scott as he slept. Their father was seated in the lounger next to them. "Alan was excited about this school year," Scott replied. "He'd made the track team and managed to pull up his grades enough to get into Advanced Placement courses. Sprout's smart. I don't think it will be an issue of willingness."

He paused, looking down at his blond haired brother. It'd taken a full week to get to the point where either of the blonds had been willing to be touched. Both, though, were still skittish, and much too thin. And Alan was still so _quiet_, having hardly said anything in the past week and his usual exuberance couldn't be found.

"I suppose it depends on what Virgil says," Scott continued. "Him being the medic and all. I think he said something about gaining more weight and getting to the point where being surprised won't be retaliated with biting."

Jeff nodded, understanding that one completely. Both his boys had picked up the tendency to bite—whether human or not—when startled. Luckily, Alan was very hard to sneak up on, what with being an empath. Not so luckily, John's bites tended to hurt ore. Nearly everyone on the island had had to be treated for bite-wounds.

Scott ran a hand down John's back, smoothing his brother's t-shirt. "I think he'll be fine."

"Me too," Virgil replied as he walked out to the large pool to join them. He was holding an ocelot in his arms, petting the cat, which was giving a grumbly purr. "I think with a little more work, both of them will be find. Sprout's already proven he's got complete control over his empathy."

Alan looked up at the sound of his nickname, large blue cat-eyes looking around. Jeff could remember when Alan would fight that nickname and get terribly upset. That was another thing that the Hood had changed. Alan's gaze landed on Gordon's swimming form and they all felt a brush of smug amusement.

Scott raised an eyebrow. "Sprout?"

Alan jumped out of Virgil's arms and started racing along the side of the pool, following Gordon.

John shifted irritably when a bird—some sort of tropical bird—cawed loudly for the sixth time. He'd been trying to ignore it, but it was too loud and too obnoxious. He straightened with a sigh, looking up and meeting his father's gaze. "Stupid bird."

Jeff grinned. "You're too used the quiet of Thunderbird Five."

"My 'bird isn't quiet," John grumbled, rolling off the lounger and studying the jungle that lay behind them. He was correct of course in that Thunderbird Five was noisy with the humming of different machines. "It's just more comforting." He gave a huff and jumped into the trees, much to the surprise of the others.

They all shrugged and turned back to the pool, where Alan had stopped directly in front of where Gordon would be coming up for a breath. As soon as the red-head surfaced, Alan stuck his nose in his face. Gordon jumped in surprise, flailing slightly as he choked on pool water.

Alan shifted, falling on his side as he laughed, Gordon's glare only adding to his amusement. "Geez, Al," Gordon huffed. "Trying to give me a heart attack?"

Jeff, Scott and Virgil all grinned, happy to see Alan joking around again. The youngest's laughter died off to chuckles, when there was suddenly a large squawk from the bird and then silence. Alan burst into laughter again.

**Been sitting on this forever. I never finished it. Might someday though.**


	13. Harry Potter SG1

**Jumper**

**A Stargate SG1 Harry Potter Crossover. Never finished.**

They all stared at the Stargate in complete shock. Never before had they seen this happen, and they had been on many trips through the Gate. Sam glanced over at Jack, raising an eyebrow, only to have him reply with a shrug. "Danny?" he asked, turning to the man at his side.

"No idea, Jack," Daniel replied, staring at the swirling vortex. Instead of the usual blue event horizon, there was instead an angry cloud of emerald green, interspersed with shots of lightning. The ring was spinning, all the chevrons glowing, but none of them were stopping or locking in place.

The light show continued for a short while before a man was spat out of the Gate, hitting the ramp and rolling a few feet. He didn't move from where he landed, and the others all paused in concern. The green vortex disappeared almost immediately, leaving the man unconscious and alone, as no one had followed him.

SG1 looked at each other for a long moment before cautiously approaching the man. Upon closer inspection, they were amazed to find that it was actually a boy, around the age of seventeen if they weren't mistaken. Possibly sixteen. He was dressed in an Earth military uniform, and if the braids on the shoulders were any indication, he was high-ranking. There was an envelope pinned to his shirt, and Daniel took it, as Sam was carefully checking the boy over until Janet could join them.

Daniel opened the letter and skimmed it, his jaw dropping in surprise as he read. "Jack, you're not going to believe this," he murmured. Jack glanced at him before moving aside for Janet and her team of lackeys to get the boy onto a gurney and transported to the infirmary.

The General called them into the briefing room, wanting to know what had just happened. Upon arrival, the three present members of SG1 (as Teal'c had taken the weekend to visit his son) sat down at the table, and Daniel placed the letter in front of him. The General gave him a bland look and he began to read.

_To Whom It May Concern,_

_I apologize for dropping this on you without your consent, but I'm afraid we had very little choice in the matter. The boy would have been arrested and put on a farce of a trial for doing something that the very people that would have done the arresting had forced him to do. I found the Chappa'ai a long time ago and knew that eventually it would aid me and mine, although it was in such a condition that only one trip would be able to be made before it would crumble._

_The boy that has been sent is one General Hadrian (Harry) James Potter of the Hogwarts Contingency. He is turning seventeen this July, and while I assume that being a General is unheard of at such a young age, he truly has earned the title. He has lived through and led a war that others have only witnessed in their worst nightmares._

_To fully understand, you have to realize that on our world (which is most probably a different version of your own Earth) magic exists and a complete world, hidden from the mundane, is built upon it. Over fifty years ago, a man by the name of Tom Marvelo Riddle decided that those of mixed blood, or those without magic were below him. He changed his name to Lord Voldemort, gathered followers of like-minded beliefs (called Death Eaters) and started a war in the hopes to eliminate anyone he thought to be unworthy._

_A prophecy was eventually made about one boy that would be able to vanquish the Dark Lord. That boy is none other than Hadrian. At the tender age of fifteen months, his parents were killed before him and he did the impossible, surviving a spell that kills instantaneously, and the Dark Lord was from that time believed dead. Hadrian was sent to his relatives despite my wishes, where he would grow up neglected and abused._

_At the age of eleven he arrived at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry where he fought off Voldemort, who was little more than a specter. Over the course of the next four years, he would continue to fight off the Dark Lord, even when the vile man returned to his body and started the war once again._

_The Ministry of Magic used the boy to bolster support from the public, but did very little to help him. Instead, they saw him as a tool. They forced him to fight a man that was not only much older and more experienced, but that everyone feared enough that they refused to even say his name. It was during the last year that things took a serious turn in the war._

_We teachers of Hogwarts, the last remaining sanctuary in Wizarding Britain, were lured out to a nearby town by a Death Eater attack. What we didn't know was that it was a trap, and the Death Eaters alongside their master, took Hogwarts and reworked the wards to keep us out. With no adult to protect them, we feared the children would fall within hours._

_To our surprise the wards didn't fall for almost a year, and it was the children that brought them down. We entered the castle, only to find that the students had created their own army, and General Potter was at the forefront. The Death Eaters were either dead or contained, and Voldemort had been destroyed for good. Hadrian and many others were injured, but before they could fully heal, the Minister of Magic put out a warrant for Hadrian's arrest for the murder of Tom Riddle. _

_So I sent him through the Chappa'ai. He had very little to keep him here, as his family have all been killed, and his two greatest friends, Colonels under his command, fell in the last battle. I have not yet had time to know what all happened in the castle this past year, but I know that Hadrian is going to need help to get through the repercussions. _

_He cannot return home, and I'm only hoping that those that have found him will offer him a place in their lives and eventually their hearts. He deserves so much more than I or anyone else can give him._

_Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts_

_Order of Merlin First Class_

Daniel set the papers aside, and looked up at the other four, who were looking at him in shock. "So…what do we do now?" he asked, staring at the General.

Hammond blinked. "I suppose we talk to the boy."

"Magic can't possibly exist," Sam muttered, shaking her head. "It's outside the realm of possibilities."

Jack gave her an incredulous look. "Carter, the Gate just spat out a boy from an alternate universe. Somehow, I think magic isn't the only thing he's going to be telling us about."

"Wait," Sam said, holding up a finger and looking around her. "If he's from an alternate universe, shouldn't we be worried about the Hadrian Potter here? There can't be two living in the same dimension."

Hammond frowned. "You're right. I will look into that. For now, head to the infirmary and we will talk to the boy when he wakes."

Chapter One

"Okay, so according to records, Lily and James Potter gave birth to Hadrian James on July 31st 1980," Sam read off. "Fifteen months later all three were killed when a drunk driver by the name of Tom M. Riddle broadsided their car."

"So he doesn't have a problem with living in this world?" Jack asked, turning to study the boy in the bed.

Daniel shrugged. "Well, no quantum problems anyway," he replied. The three members of SG1 turned back to the boy, frowning at what they saw.

Janet's diagnosis confirmed what they had already suspected, but it certainly didn't make them happy. He was a sixteen—nearly seventeen—year old boy who had suffered from years of malnutrition and abuse. He was small for his age, entirely too pale (as if he hadn't seen the sun for many months), but incredibly fit. His messy black hair fell to his shoulders and accentuated just how sickly his pallor was. But it was the scars that concerned them the most.

Harry was practically covered in them. The most disturbing were the large claw marks across his chest and the scar that crossed his throat, as though someone had tried to slit it. There were two strangely shaped lightning-bolt scars, one on his forehead, the other over his heart. A long thin scar traced down the right side of his face, from temple to the corner of his mouth. There were other scars as well, far too many others.

As they watched, the boy's brow furrowed and he frowned, shifting slightly. Emerald green eyes of an almost unnatural color blinked open and caught sight of them. Almost immediately, the boy was out of the bed and pressed into the corner of the room. There was a determined look in his eye, to go along with the barely hidden fear.

"Hey now," Jack said, raising his hands in a comforting motion. "It's alright. We're not going to hurt you."

"I've heard that before," Harry croaked, swallowing back his discomfort. "Forgive me if I don't believe you." He looked around, eyes skittering across the infirmary. "Where am I?"

"The infirmary of the Stargate Command in Colorado," Sam said gently.

"Colorado. In America." Emerald eyes were watching them suspiciously, but the adults weren't making any move towards him.

"Well, yes, but…" Daniel glanced towards Jack and then gave a small sigh. "You're not in the same, uh, reality as the one you're used to." At Harry's blank stare he elaborated. "Your headmaster, um, Dumbledore, sent you through the Stargate to keep your Minister of Magic from arresting you. You're in an alternate world, and we're sorry but the gate on your side has likely been destroyed. You can't go back."

Harry gave them a resigned look, not looking at all surprised by the fact that the minister had wanted him arrested. That was telling, although of what, Jack wasn't sure he wanted to know. "Who are you?" the boy asked softly, slumping against the wall.

Jack grinned. "I'm Colonel Jack O'Neill of SG1. That's Major Sam Carter and Dr. Daniel Jackson of the same team. Our fourth member, Teal'c, is currently on his home planet, visiting his son."

"Home planet?" Harry muttered."

"Uh, yeah," Jack grimaced, not sure exactly how to explain that. "Um. The Stargate is a big round thingy that creates a portal…er…wormhole that allows travel to other planets."

Harry blinked at them for a moment, and then took it incredibly well. "Oh. I'm Harry." He sighed, his gaze dropping to the floor. "General Harry Potter of Hogwarts."

"Alright, General—"

"Please don't," Harry interrupted tiredly. "I'm so tired of being in command…I just…" he trailed off, not sure what he was wanting.

"Okay," Jack said gently. "Harry, we need to figure out what to do with you now." He winced as soon as he said it, realizing it came out not how he had wanted it to.

"What do you want from me?" Harry asked, leaning more heavily against the wall.

"What?" Sam asked, perplexed.

Harry gave her a bland look. "Everyone wants something from me."

Jack blinked, shaking his head. "Honestly, we don't want anything from you. We just want you to stay safe and be happy."

"Happy," Harry murmured. It sounded as though he didn't really know what that word was. His legs gave out on him at that point, and Daniel caught him before he could fall. "Don't!" Harry snapped, startled and tense.

Daniel muttered something soothing in Arabic without realizing it wasn't in English. Harry blinked up at him and relaxed, answering back in the same language. They conversed for a moment, Harry allowing Daniel to help him back to the bed. "How many languages do you speak, Harry?" the linguist asked softly, switching back to English.

"Um," Harry looked confused for a moment. "I don't really know," he answered hesitantly. "I'm a parselmouth, so learning languages comes easy."

"Parsel-what?" Jack asked, seating himself in a chair. Sam did the same, while Daniel perched on the edge of the bed.

"Parselmouth," Harry said softly. "It allows me to speak Parseltongue, a magical language. It, uh, is the language of snakes."

Jack blinked, taken aback. "You can talk to snakes?" At Harry's hesitant nod, he grinned. "That's so cool." Harry blinked at him, obviously not expecting that reaction. Jack turned to the door as the General walked in. "Sir, I think I just found an assistant for Daniel."

* * *

**At this point, Harry's been at the SGC for about a month or two. **

Harry had spent the last week observing SG1 and couldn't help but think that he would never be able to fit into their group. They were too close, too familial for him to be able to comprehend. Jack and Daniel had a strange best friend/brother/father-son relationship that he wasn't even going to try to dissect. Sam and Daniel interacted like siblings did, and Teal'c was a lot like an indulgent uncle. Or the stoic guard-dog, depending on the situation.

Harry was just the awkward teenager forced into their close-knit group.

He kept himself from interacting, holding back from the group. They noticed but figured it better not to do anything for the time being. And it wasn't until a mission went wrong that they fully adopted the boy into their mixed family.

Harry was waiting in the Gate-room with the General when SG1 returned from what should have been a simple mission. When they hadn't returned on time, the SGC had realized that fate had once again stepped up the game. SG1 had run down the ramp, demanding for the Iris to be closed, Daniel pale and limp in Teal'c's arms.

"Colonel O'Neill?" Hammond asked, giving the archeologist a concerned look.

Jack shook his head, watching worriedly as Teal'c placed his burden on the proffered stretcher. "We were ambushed, sir. They took Daniel from us. And…well, we don't know what they did."

Sam was pale, blue eyes wide and Harry caught the drift of her thoughts as she remembered the screams. He glanced at the archeologist, frowning when he saw no obvious injuries.

He followed them to the infirmary, watching from the shadows as Janet looked them all over. She spent the longest time on Daniel but couldn't find anything wrong except the shock and the fact that he refused to wake. Janet turned back to the worried team and General, giving a small shrug. "He's…well, I think he's refusing to wake up."

Harry stepped out of the shadows then, startling Sam. "I may be able to help," he said softly, frowning as he looked over at Daniel. They questioned how and he gave a small sigh. "If he's buried himself in his mind I can go in after him. It might help."

They all stared and then Jack nodded. "Do what you can," he mumbled.

Harry gave a short nod, sitting on Daniel's bed and placing his fingers on the man's temples. "I'm going to pass out," he warned. "But under no circumstances can you separate us, or I could get stuck in his mind." They all gave short nods and he closed his eyes, reaching for Daniel's mind.

He was immediately engulfed by darkness, only to have flashes of unfamiliar memories assault him. It was a chaotic mess and harry pushed it all away, making a note to help Daniel reorganize his mind. "Dr. Jackson?" he called, walking through the darkness. "Daniel?"

He heard a small sniffle and turned to find what looked to be a ten-year-old boy huddled into himself. He crouched nearby and held out a hand only to have the child—who was obviously Daniel—gasp and scurry back. "Don't touch me! Don't hurt me!" A pale face looked up at him, covered in bruises.

Harry winced, letting his hand drop, as he sat on the nonexistent ground. "I'm not going to hurt you." He studied the boy, eyeing the injuries. His eyes narrowed as he caught sight of the bite-mark on Daniel's neck. "Can you tell me what happened?" he asked soothingly.

Daniel shook his head furiously, blond hair flopping into his face. "Can't. Can't. He'll find me and hurt me again." Tears streaked down the bruised face before it was hidden against knobby knees.

"Who will hurt you?" Harry asked softly, not sure he really wanted to know. But in order to get their Daniel back, he had to ask. The boy was sobbing out a mantra of "no" as memories came unbidden to their minds.

Harry watched as a ten-year-old Daniel was forced to the bed by his foster father, other drunk men laughing as they watched the assault. He watched as the boy screamed until he could no longer fight. Nd he watched as this happened nearly every night for three months, Daniel's foster father taking money from the other men for their turn with the boy 'with the beautiful eyes'.

Tears streaked Harry's cheeks when the memories finally ended with Daniel returning to the orphanage and never telling of what had happened. Of burying the memories and tyring his best to forget.

Carefully, he gathered the sobbing boy into his arms, allowing Daniel to fight against him as he rocked the child. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he whispered. He'd suffered years of abuse at the hands of the Dursleys, but never had they touched him in such a manner. The Death Eaters probably would have, had they had a chance, but Harry had never let them have such.

"They made me remember," a full-grown Daniel whispered from within Harry's arms. "They made me feel it all again."

Harry wasn't surprised by the sudden change, but he didn't let go. "I'm so sorry," he repeated. A lot about Daniel was explained now. His penchant for not caring for himself, his dislike for a lot of touching. He allowed his team close, but no one else. His distrust of just about everyone who could be in an authoritative position… It all made sense now.

"Where are we?" Daniel mumbled against Harry's neck.

"In your mind," the teen answered. "You need to wake up now, Daniel."

Daniel shook his head, gasping back tears. "No. No. I can't. They won't understand. They'll leave and I can't…" he broke off, gasping against the tears.

Harry pressed a gentle kiss to the archeologist's temple, still rocking him. "They won't leave. I won't leave," he promised. In an effort to prove himself, he placed a finger to Daniel's forehead "Look," he whispered.

Flashes of his life spun around him. His cupboard, loneliness, pain. Friendship, death and war. His whole life laid bare for the man in his arms. It was more open than Harry had ever been with anyone and the onslaught of memories had him nearly sobbing.

Daniel's arms tightened around him and the older man shared his own memories of years of foster-care, college and finally gate-travel. Of his love for his wife and the pain of losing her twice.

With no secrets between them, Harry and Daniel cried and held onto each other, taking comfort where they could. In time, Harry pulled back and helped Daniel grab hold of the memories, organizing them to help clear his mind.

In the real world, Jack, Sam and Teal'c watched and waited. The General and Janet had been called away soon after Harry had collapsed against Daniel's chest, but the other three had refused to leave. They grew more concerned as more time passed, only to have that worry intensify when they saw that both unconscious men were crying.

Harry watched silently as Daniel tried to calm himself. Being forced to relive such a dark time in his childhood had nearly broken the man, but Harry believed he would make it out relatively whole. A shadow stalked by, startling him and he turned.

"Daniel," he called softly. "Do you remember how I said that every person has an animal within them?"

"Yes," Daniel replied, arms wrapped around himself in a full-blown self-hug. "Jack said I would be a space-monkey."

Harry's lips quirked as he watched the shadow. "That's not a monkey," he said, pointing. "Here, hold out your hand."

Daniel hesitated, but did so, gasping as a golden cougar stalked forward. "Wow," he breathed as the feline rubbed it's face against his hand. The cougar looked up at him and then almost seemed to be absorbed into his hand.

"You're stronger than you think," Harry murmured. "Daniel, you know you're going to have to talk about what happened, right?"

Daniel looked up at him, paling. "I can't. Harry…"

"You talk and I'll talk," Harry said. He knew better than to think he was perfectly okay, and he wasn't hypocritical enough to make Daniel do something that he himself wasn't willing to do.

Daniel watched him for a long moment before giving a hesitant nod. "No psychologists," he mumbled. "Talk to Jack."

"Sure," Harry nodded. He held out his hand and Daniel took it.

The three conscious members of SG1 started when Harry sat up and pulled Daniel into a tight embrace. "Jack?" Daniel whimpered, holding one arm out for the man, although he didn't let go of Harry. Jack didn't seem to care, and he wrapped both of them in his arms. Sam and Teal'c joined in the group hug, and it was that scene that the General and Janet walked in on.

The debriefing had been hard. Daniel hadn't been able to tell what his captors had don't' to him except that they had made him relive a memory. When he was asked what memory, Harry stepped in and stopped that line of questioning. He said that Daniel would talk to Jack about it, but not until he was ready.

As such, SG1 was on stand-down for two weeks. Daniel had finally opened up to Jack, who had then gone and worked out his anger in the workroom. There was nothing he could do to right the situation except to listen.

What surprised the colonel was when Harry came up to talk to him too. Apparently, that had been part of the deal with Daniel. Jack was beginning to wonder when he had become the team psychologist, but he couldn't help but notice that the sessions were really helping. His anger over what had happened to Daniel was only intensified by what Harry had gone through. Many recruits walked away sore from sparring with him.

Often, harry retreated to Daniel's office as Flicker after their talking sessions. It had almost become commonplace to see a large black panther stalking through the halls of the SGC. Although, Jack had most certainly not expected to find a cougar with the panther in Daniel's office. He stopped, staring in shock.

Flicker gave a feline grin, before changing back to Harry. "Daniel's finally got the transformation down," he said with a full-blown grin. Jack was stricken for a movement at how much younger Harry looked, having never actually seen him smile before. And then the words registered.

"I thought you needed magic for that Animagus-thingy."

Harry tilted his head to one side. "That's what I thought. But now it seems that as long as you can contact the animal spirit, and you have the willpower, then you can change." He waved the cougar forward. "Jack, meet Sagehunter."

Jack smiled, running a hand along the cat's back. "And here I was certain you would be a space-monkey," he mumbled. "This is cool. And useful." He looked up at Harry. "How do you meet your animal?"

"That's what you need magic for," Harry said. "Or someone with magic to help you with." He waved him forward into a chair. "Close your eyes." Placing his fingers against Jack's temples, he walked the man through locating the animal spirit.

"Oh cool," Jack mumbled. "that is one impressive wolf."

Harry grinned again and clapped his hands. "It might take a couple days to get the transformation down," he warned before shifting back into Flicker and playfully jumping on Sagehunter's back.

**Never finished.**


	14. Alex Rider America

**Just a Moment**

**An Alex Rider fic.**

Everyone who went to Richard's High School knew that Allen Raider had his secrets. He had moved into their little town of Georgia, Texas nearing his fifteenth birthday. He was now sixteen, going on seventeen, and rather popular in the school despite those secrets.

He was blonde, his hair usually styled in a 'just shagged' style that had girls sighing. He had brown eyes that were far older than his years, but could spark with mischief. He was well built, having the kind of body that most guys were jealous of and most girls ogled. However, not once had he ever removed his shirt in front of any of the others, and that was quite strange as he was one of the star soccer players.

Allen was soft spoken, but confident, his British accent a rarity in the middle of Texas. He carried himself strongly, a hidden strength mixed with the obvious grace. He lived with his aunt, Jackie Stars on the outskirt of town, in a little house.

"Al!" Sam Smith called, gaining the attention of the mysterious teen. "We're going to play a short game! You want to join!"

"Sure!" Allen called back, glancing over his shoulder. Almost two years and he was still searching for enemies. Old habits died hard, and all that. And there was no way that MI6 was going to let him be forever. Despite the fact that they had fabricated his 'death' for him.

Scorpia had not been pleased with the arrangement to leave Alex Rider alone. As such, they had been aiming to kill him when Mrs. Jones stepped in and arranged for the disappearance of Rider and his guardian Jack Starbright. With five million dollars (Alex had finally received pay for those seven missions he'd been on) and new names, the two had moved to the US, not sure if they would be returning to England anytime soon.

Allen ran towards his friends, grinning at the two boys and girls that had practically stuck to him like glue since he had first arrived. They didn't care if he didn't tell them everything (or anything, for that matter), they just liked him for who he was.

Sam was fooling around with Riley Baxter, bouncing the ball back and forth. Jessica Sanders and Erin Jacobs were laughing at the two of them as Allen joined them, abruptly stealing the ball. The girls joined in, two against three, as Allen joined their side.

"So, you planning on joining us this weekend?" Erin asked as they took a breather, waiting for the lunch bell to ring.

Allen blinked at her. "Where are you going?"

"Austin," Riley grinned.

"Road-trip!" Sam yelled, giving a whoop.

Allen laughed. "Yeah. Sure. Just let me tell Jackie." Yes, Jack was still a little overprotective at times. Allen was pretty sure it stemmed from when he had been going on missions every few weeks. And he didn't blame her for it.

"Week off school rocks!" Jessica practically squealed. Then she and the other three Americans jumped as the bell rang. Allen laughed at them, having timed the bell at his first week there (something he had learned to do way back with Point Blanc) and known it would ring at that moment.

Later that night, Jack returned home from work (not that she really needed a job what with Alex's paycheck). Alex grinned up at her from where he was finishing the last of his homework. "Hey. Rick, Sam, Jess and Erin are going to Austin this weekend. Can I go too?"

Jack eyed him for a long moment, knowing that he was only sixteen and yet so much older. She absently wondered how the other teens had gotten their parents to agree to the trip, but realized that if Alex didn't go, then they would be out of control. The boy was their voice of reason most of the time, after all.

"Fine. But take your gun," she said. Normally, she would have been opposed to someone carrying a weapon, especially a child. But Alex was anything but normal, and she new better than to become too complacent. Scorpia may believe they were dead, but there was still a chance of being found out.

"Of course," Alex replied, as though that were obvious. And, honestly, it was to him. His phone vibrated and he pulled it out to read the newest text with a grin.

_Hey Alex! What's up?_

Tom Harris, one of the only people that Alex had kept in touch with from his past life. The others being K-Unit, which Ben Daniels, aka Fox, had rejoined after his short tenure into MI6. (He had found that the SAS soldiers were actually rather fun to talk to, when they weren't angry, that is.) Mrs. Jones and Alan Blunt were the other two people who knew of his new life, but they didn't contact him. Which he was grateful for.

_**Going to Austin with friends during break.**_

There were no abbreviations in their conversations. Writing reports for MI6 had made Alex a stickler when it came to spelling, and he had never bothered to learn 'texting language'. Tom complied, as did the four Americans, and they just ignored it as one of Alex's (or Allen's) oddities.

_Which friends?_

Alex put his homework back into his backpack, texting one handedly. _**Sam, Riley, Jess and Erin.**_

_Wish I could meet them. They sound cool, from what you've told me._

Alex smiled sadly, knowing that wasn't likely.

_**Dude, I'd be happy just to see you again.**_

_Dude?_

_**Bloody Americans are corrupting me.**_

_Lol_

"Alex!" Jack called. "Could you run to the store for me?"

_**Sorry. Have to run errands for Jack. Talk to you later?**_

_Course. Bye._

Alex grabbed the list from Jack and ran out the door, mentally preparing himself to become Allen again. Everyone knew everyone in this little town, and they couldn't afford to slip up. On the way out of the store, however, Alex paused, glancing around himself.

He was getting that uneasy feeling he had gotten whenever he had been watched during one of his missions. He hadn't gotten it often since, only when the CIA had sent an agent to keep on eye on him as a favor for MI6. They, obviously, couldn't chance something happening to their highest ranking agent, even if he was on a 'sabbatical' of sorts.

The CIA usually called him before assigning an agent, though. And he hadn't received a call this time around.

**Never finished. They get attacked by SCORPIA and end up going to London and all sorts of fun. Meet up with Tom again too.**


	15. XMen Evolution

**X-Men**

He shrieked in an entirely animalistic way, twisting away from those who were only trying to help him. He pushed himself into the corner, watching them with wary, fearful gold eyes as his spade-tipped tail whipped about. Logan was only glad that the frightened teen wasn't aware enough to try teleporting away.

A little over a month ago, 'Mutant Manor's' resident fuzzy-blue-dude went missing. Despite their efforts, they hadn't been able to locate him until earlier that morning. As it turned out, he had been kidnapped by Sinister, being used as both an experiment and a personal cat-toy for Sabertooth.

And it had apparently broken his mind.

Logan, Scott, Ororo and Jean all stepped back, panting slightly from the effort of trying to catch the teen. "I really don't want to have to tranq him, but he's not giving us much choice," Jean said softly, eyeing the blue child. Scott sighed, glancing at Ororo, who shrugged.

Logan, though, scowled, not liking the thought of tranqing the kid when they didn't know what had been done to him. The fresh scars that littered his frame were obvious, and most likely from Sabertooth's claws, but there was no telling what Sinister had done. Logan waved at the three, a clear order to stay out of the way, and strode forward. Kurt cowered in his corner, tensing, but Logan stopped a good distance away and sat down. If the kid was going to act like a frightened animal, than Logan was going to treat him like a frightened animal. He stretched out a hand, claws extended-no need to spring it on the kid-and waited.

Kurt stilled, watching the feral. He was familiar, reminding Kurt of safety and happiness, but he couldn't remember why. Kurt could smell the beast within the man, but it wasn't anything like the cat that had hurt him time and again. The claws were interesting, but the man wasn't trying to harm him with them, so he disregarded the threat.

Scott and the two women watched in amazement as Kurt calmed, seating himself in front of Logan and playing with the older mutant's fingers.


	16. Young Justice

**Little Robin Redbreast**

**A Young Justice Season One fic. Richard Grayson, not Robin, is being targeted by the Joker and Scarecrow. And to top it off...he's got the flu.**

Dick Grayson felt like crap. He'd woken up with a sore throat, a headache, and a general tiredness that had not gone away. What made it even worse was that it was _that_ day. The one day that he hated with a passion more than any other. It was a day that Alfred and Bruce usually let him sleep through, allowing him to skip school and bat-patrol and the world in general.

But Bruce was out of town, having left yesterday for a business meeting in Metropolis. He'd apologized profusely to Dick, as he'd always been there on _this_ day in the past, but Dick had let him know that he understood. Dick was pretty sure that he could function this time around. It had been five years since his parents deaths, and while it still hurt—oh man, did it ever hurt—he liked to think he was getting a little stronger.

So, even feeling as bad as he was, he decided to go to school. Which, in retrospect was probably a mistake. Everything about the day had been crap. He'd felt sick, been called out by the teachers, been picked on by the few jocks who felt like teasing the 'circus-freak'. And then he'd gotten this packet from the office, them saying that it had come in the mail for him. Which, admittedly was odd, and somewhat against the rules. Again with the lectures.

Exiting the school, Dick glanced at the manila envelope in his hand and contemplated what he was going to do. He really wanted to just go home and curl up in bed and sleep for the next year, but Alfred wouldn't be back from visiting his sick niece for another two hours, and Dick had said that he'd be at the mountain after school just to keep the butler from worrying.

Sighing, he made his way to where the zeta beams were located, glad that he had already changed out of his school uniform and into his civvies and hiked his bag up over his shoulder. He pulled open the envelope and emptied it. Only to freeze when he caught sight of what was inside. Pictures of his parents after they had fallen from the trapeze. The blood, the gore and the small child in tears. All pictures, except for the small playing card, splattered with blood.

A Joker.

The back of the card held the single message: "What are you afraid of?"

"Afraid of?" he whispered, swallowing heavily. The card was faintly damp, and already he could feel the edges of paranoia. "Fear gas?" he whispered.

Dropping the card and the pictures back into the envelope, he shoved them into his bag and ran. The gas, although not really a gas anymore but a liquid, was quickly gaining control of him, and he needed to get to the mountain before he lost himself to the fear. He wanted to just use an antidote, but he couldn't because the one he had was the original, and his specially made one hadn't been replaced since they had last fought Scarecrow. And he couldn't use the original because he was allergic to it.

And the fear was increasing exponentially and he needed to get somewhere with someone who wouldn't let him run.

**Never finished.**


	17. LotR Harry Potter

**HP/LOTR X-Over**

He walked among the dead, tears staining his cheeks. He was injured and in pain, and yet his heart hurt the most. There were very few survivors and they had already been carted away. Hogwarts was no longer the lively place that had intrigued him, but now stood broken and burned, a tomb for his soul.

He had no place here.

He dropped to his knees beside Remus, sobbing into the dead man's chest. "It's over Mooney. It's over. Please get up." His hands gripped the bloody cloth and he almost missed the bright light that engulfed him.

"Harry Potter," a gentle voice said.

Harry looked up at a beautiful woman, blinking back tears. She had Elven features and was practically glowing. He said nothing, merely looking at her.

"Harry Potter, I am of the Valar, and your journey is not yet over." Despair entered emerald green eyes, and she could see the want of death. "No, child, do not despair. You are to be given immortal life. The life of an Elf, and perchance you shall heal while on your quest. You are to join the Fellowship that travels to destroy a great evil held in a ring of power."

Harry shook his head, giving a short sob. "No more. Please no more. I don't want to live any longer. Please."

"Hush child," she soothed. "All will be well. And your name shall be known as Iluvatar, and you shall bring hope to all of Middle Earth."

There was a flash of light, and Harry was falling.

* * *

The Fellowship shifted as Gandalf tried to remember the password to Moria. Legolas was already feeling dread at the thought of the mines, and he had separated himself from the others. He could feel Aragorn's concerned gaze, but the Man was busy with the hobbits and knew better than to coddle the Elven prince.

There was a sudden strike of lightning directly at his feet, and he jumped back with a startled yelp, blinking spots from his eyes. "Legolas!" Aragorn's calls startled him nearly as much as the unexpected surge of electricity, and he glanced over his shoulder.

"I am fine, Estel," he replied, before once again turning to contemplate the bundle that had appeared in the flash. A blade appeared in his hand as the bundle moved and a soft groan reached his ears. The Elf took a small step forward. "Who are you?" he asked, knowing full well the Fellowship was watching warily.

"You would think," the bundle mumbled. "That if the Valar truly wanted me to be of some help, they would have at least healed me before sending me here." Legolas frowned as the person shifted, revealing Elven features. Emerald eyes of an unnatural color caught his own, and the Prince couldn't help but notice the pain in them.

"Who are you?" he repeated, slowly sheathing the knife.

The Elf-stranger blinked slowly. "I am Iluvatar."

"Iluvatar?" Legolas repeated, dropping to his knees beside him.

The Elf-stranger nodded, sitting up with a pained grimace. "I haven't always been known as such," he revealed. "But the Valar refused to let me die. She said I had to aid the Fellowship." He looked down, silky, shoulder-length hair of the darkest black falling about his face. He stared at the hand that had before been pressed against his thigh, and Legolas noticed it was covered in blood.

In a quick move, the blond Elf lifted the newcomer and brought him over to the rest of the Fellowship. "He is injured," he said simply, catching Aragorn's gaze.

The Ranger nodded and knelt next to the dark Elf, chuckling at his startled appearance. A quick look over revealed him to be dressed entirely in black, although it was in the style of the Elves. He wore a cloak of inky darkness that was clasped by a silver broach in the shape of a lightning bolt, matching a scar on his forehead that was partially hidden by a circlet of shiny black metal. Aragorn returned his attention to the deep injury on the Elf's thigh, cleaning and binding it. The white bandages were bright amongst all the black. "Are you injured elsewhere?" he asked softly.

A part of him wanted to leave the Elf behind, worried this was a trap set by Saruman. And yet, a larger part was claiming this Elf was a godsend, quite literally. "Most likely," Iluvatar shrugged. "But nowhere near as bad. I'll survive." He was watching Gandalf, a hint of sadness in his eyes. Turning emerald orbs back to the Man and Elf in front of him, he asked, "Who are you?"

"I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn, and this is Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood," Aragorn replied. He motioned to the others in their group. "Among us are Boromir of Gondor, Gimli of the Dwarves, Gandalf the Gray, and the four hobbits, Frodo, Samwise, Pippin and Merry."

Iluvatar nodded, watching as Frodo stood to look at the door. "I am Iluvatar."

"It's a riddle!" Frodo suddenly exclaimed. "Speak friend and enter. Gandalf, what's the Elvish word for friend?"

Gandalf frowned. "Mellon." And the doors slowly opened. Iluvatar got to his feet, stumbling slightly, and then pushed the pain away. He followed the others slowly, not deluding himself into thinking he was part of their group just yet. He heard their comments of mine-turned-tomb and memories of Hogwarts' last days came unbidden to his mind.

But when Frodo yelped and was dragged towards the water, he sprung into action. A sword of bright white appeared in his hand, gleaming in the darkness, and a sharp contrast to his own personal appearance. He hacked at the tentacles of the beast, joining Boromir and Aragorn in the frenzy. They all raced to the mines, Legolas firing arrows. The watcher, though, wasn't pleased and brought the entrance down about them.

Darkness engulfed them. Iluvatar felt Legolas shudder next to him and he held out his sword, the blade glowing enough to shed some light. Gandalf lit his staff and more was given, allowing the Fellowship to once again eye the death that surrounded them.

Iluvatar toed one of the skeletons with his boot, frowning darkly. "This reminds me of how I left my home," he whispered. He caught sight of the hobbits huddling together in the back of the group and sighed. Tying his glowing sword to his belt, he limped over to the four and ushered them along. "Come on. Let's not get left behind."

"Mister Iluvatar?" Frodo asked, continuing when Iluvatar nodded. "Thank you. For back there. You didn't have to help me."

"Of course I did," Iluvatar replied. "And you can drop the 'Mister'. I'm pretty sure I'm the youngest one here." He wasn't quite sure how he knew that, but he had that feeling.

"But you're an Elf!" Pippen said, and Iluvatar noticed that the rest of the Fellowship was listening as well.

"I have not always been an Elf," he said. "I was once a man, and I am only seventeen years. I come from a world that is much different from this one and yet, quite the same."

"A different world?" Sam asked, catching Iluvatar's elbow when the Elf stumbled, and getting a small smile in return. "How could it be the same?"

Iluvatar paused before answering, peering into the shadows. Something was following them. "We were at war with a Dark Lord for many years. I had only just destroyed him when the Valar sent me here."

"But won't your friends and family be worried about you?" Merry asked.

Iluvatar felt a stab of pain through his heart at such an innocent question. He limped along in silence for a short moment before softly revealing, "They are all dead." He didn't miss the shocked and sympathetic glances send his way.

"We will stop here for the night," Gandalf said after having admitted to not knowing the way. Iluvatar gave a relieved sigh and dropped to the ground, allowing his sword to disappear.

Legolas sat next to him, checking over the bandages. Iluvatar noticed that the blond was pale and tense. "What's wrong?"

"The dark does me no good," Legolas whispered, glancing up at his face. "It brings back memories best left forgotten."

Iluvatar gave a small hum, noticing Aragorn watching from a few feet away. The hobbits were interrogating Gimli, with Boromir joining in occasionally. "Look to your friend for hope," he said, motioning to the Ranger. Somehow he knew those two were close.

Legolas quirked an eyebrow. "Strange that you should say that. Aragorn's Elvish name is Estel."

"Hope." Iluvatar smirked, pushing himself to his feet again. "Seems I am wise beyond my years." He walked over to Aragorn, leaving Legolas sitting on his own. "The dark is making your friend weary." Funny how he was so quickly getting used to the speaking patterns of this world. It was as though the knowledge of this world was already in his mind and merely needed to be accessed.

He watched as Aragorn left to join Legolas, sitting near and carrying on a soft conversation in Elvish. Legolas gave a weary sigh and leaned against the Ranger's shoulder. "You merge well with the shadows for one named for a star," Gandalf stated.

Emerald eyes glittered in the faint light as the Elf turned to the wizard. "I am what I am." The hobbits were shifting restlessly, despite having fallen asleep. Boromir was frowning into the dark, and Gimli merely seemed distressed. Legolas was resting against Aragorn's chest by this point, his face pressed into his friend's neck. Needing to feel helpful, Iluvatar began singing a lullaby that Remus had used to calm him in the last year. It was a language that he had never recognized but now knew to be Elvish.

The song was haunting and yet soothing at the same time, and everyone stilled, allowing the strain to ebb away with the melodic voice of their newest member.

When the song ended and Iluvatar was seated again, Gimli turned to Aragorn. "What ails the Elf?" he asked, motioning to Legolas, who was still asleep in his friend's hold.

Aragorn hesitated, moving to gently cover the pointed ear that wasn't pressed to his shoulder. "Five years ago, Legolas was captured by orcs and kept in a cave. He was bound and blindfolded as they tortured and raped him for days before I could pick up the trail and find him. The darkness and stone are all too clear a reminder." There was nothing to be said about that, as no one could blame the Elf for his fears. Iluvatar could understand only all too well how heavy the weight of such memories could be.

"You've known each other for a while then?" he asked so as not to be pulled into his own painful past.

Aragorn smiled. "I was raised by Elves, specifically Lord Elrond of Imladris. When I was three I was running from my brothers and got lost in the woods. Legolas found me."

"And they've been inseparable troublemakers since," Gandalf grunted, although blue eyes twinkled with amusement. It was an almost painful reminder of another old wizard Iluvatar had once known.

"We never went searching for trouble, Mithrandir," Aragorn returned good-naturedly. "It tended to follow us."

Iluvatar chuckled. "I used to say the same," he said, shaking his head.

**Never got any further than this...**


	18. BtVS NCIS

**NCIS X-Over**

**Xander Centric Buffy Crossover.**

They'd made it to Cleveland and had holed up in a house that, frankly, wasn't big enough. But plans were underway; a school was being built for the Slayers, and the International Council of Watchers and Slayers, the ICWS was being formed. They were even getting government backing.

But Xander Harris was tired. He was tired of fighting, of running, of being strong all the time. Despite what he often said of himself, he was smart. He knew his role among the Scoobies. He may be the 'token human' but he was their pillar. The heart of the team, the one who held them al together. He was the White Knight, and he knew that if he fell, the others would follow.

But he was tired. So very tired.

And he realized that was probably why he and Buffy were currently screaming at each other. He couldn't even remember what had set him of, and he knew that Buffy didn't deserve his wrath. Of course, she didn't.

But he was so very tired.

And there. Buffy had just mentioned how important he was. How he kept them all sane. She had yelled it, really. But it was his way out. He could make a joke, diffuse the situation. Make things normal again.

"Yeah? And who's keeping me sane? What's keeping me from putting a gun to my head and ending it all?"

He snapped his jaw shut, taking a step back. He hadn't meant to say that. Definitely not that. He'd said too much and Buffy looked stricken, as though someone had slapped her with a dead fish.

He took a shaky breath, wrapping his arms around himself. He wanted to take it back, say he hadn't meant it.

But it would be a lie.

It was his secret, his deepest darkest secret. The dark desire to just give up. He'd had it for years, before Jesse and Buffy and the Hellmouth. But no one had known and he knew he couldn't leave; he couldn't leave his girls alone.

"I'm sorry." It wasn't much, but it was all he could give. He brokenly repeated the apology, crumbling in on himself. And suddenly, somehow, he and Buffy were on the floor and he was wrapped up in her arms, his face pressed into the crook of her neck. She was rocking him, shushing him, telling him that he shouldn't be sorry, that she was.

And he was crying.

He didn't know why he was crying. He hadn't cried in years. But he was so tired, and Buffy was so comforting. And he felt safe and warm.

He cried himself to sleep. And Buffy just sat against the wall, holding him close, rocking her friend and humming an old lullaby. She stayed that way until Dawn, Willow and Giles came back from where ever they had been, the girls laughing and giggling.

They fell silent, though, confusion setting in. Willow whispered a spell so Xander would stay asleep, and Buffy told them of his accidental confession and of her fears.

"He needs a break," Dawn said, frowning darkly. "A vacation."

Giles shook his head. "You know as well as I do, that with so much to do, he'll never take a break."

Willow hummed softly, running a hand through Xander's hair, her fingers catching on the strap of his eye patch. "We need someone to go to DC, right? To talk to the agencies like the FBI, right?"

"You want to send Xander?" Giles asked. Because as much as he loved the boy, Giles knew that Xander wasn't the most diplomatic.

"His sister, half-sister, lives there. She works for one of those agencies…um…yeah, I can't remember which one. He hasn't seen her since, well, since Jesse died. I know that they still talk, sometimes, and that he told her that we got out of Sunnydale, but I think he needs to see her. She can give him what we can't, and he can do what needs to be done in DC while he's there. And we'll keep in touch of course-"

"Breath Wills," Buffy interjected. "Xander has a sister?" Willow nodded, blushing from her babble-fest. "It sounds like a good idea to me."

And so, while Xander slept on, oblivious to all this, the girls and Giles began to plan.

Chapter Two

Abby Scuito was excited. She was going to get to see her baby brother again, for the first time in years. She'd been so worried when Sunnydale collapsed, and her team had noticed. But then Xander had called and said that he'd gotten out, and they were safe and headed to Cleveland. They'd spoken since then, but not much.

He wasn't the one to call and plan this trip, his friend Willow had been the one on the other end of the phone. She'd said that Xander had changed, but not to be surprised. He was still her loveable little brother. She was slightly worried about that, but she let it slide for a moment. She was too excited.

In fact, she was standing in the middle of the bullpen, practically bouncing from excitement. Gibbs and his team were watching her in confusion, but she didn't care. Xander would be here any minute.

Gibbs's patience finally wore out and he snapped her name, fully intending to ask her what she was doing. But before he could, the elevator opened and a tall, dark-haired rugged man stepped out. He blinked when Abby squealed and threw herself into the man's arms. The man grinned, twirling her around before kissing her dark hair. Gibbs studied the man, taking in the eye patch and the weary, yet solid stance.

Abby frowned softly, placing her hand on the man's cheek, her thumb brushing the skin under the patch. "They said you'd been hurt," she murmured. He gave a grim smile, leaning into her hand, but didn't give any reply.

"So, Abby," Ziva's voice drawled. "Who is your boy toy?"

Abby and the man blinked, looking at each other. "Eww…" they both said, making near identical faces of disgust.

"Guys, this is my little brother, Alexander Harris," Abby said, turning to face the team, hands on her hips. "Xander, this is Special Agent Jethro Gibbs, Special Agent Tim McGee, Special Agent Tony DiNozzo, and Office Ziva David."

"Pleasure," Xander said with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. Gibbs's frown deepened.

"Mr. Harris?" a voice called, and they all turned to see Director Jenny Shepherd standing on the stairs. "I was told the meeting isn't until Friday."

Xander nodded in her direction. "It's not, Madam Director. I'm just here to spend some time with my big sister." He tugged on one of Abby's pigtails and she squealed, aiming a punch at his gut, which he caught without looking.

Ziva's eyebrow rose when she realized that even with the eye patch, this man's reflexes and depth perception did not seem to be affected.

**Never finished. Maybe someday though.**


	19. Power Rangers NCIS

**NCIS/ RPM X-Over**

Ziggy Centric

_Flashback_

_"I can only send us back seven years to the day," Kat explained. "It's not enough to keep Venjix from getting out, but it's enough to stop it from getting a foot hold."_

_"If we can keep him from the nets, then we can save millions of people," Flynn nodded. He had one arm wrapped around Summer, and the other around Scott, both his teammates leaning against him comfortably. "It'd be worth it."_

_"Yes." Kat nodded, gazing at the computer. "You'd wake up where ever you were seven years ago. So we've got to figure out where you were and how to get you to DC."_

_"Washington DC?" Scott asked. At Kat's nod, he shrugged. "I'd be twenty and in an Air force base in…Virginia, actually. Just ask to reassign me."_

_Summer gave a pleasant smile. "I'd be twenty as well, at school in Boston. I'll just head over to DC."_

_"Nineteen in New York," Flynn grinned easily. "I'll do the same."_

_The four that had spoken turned to the three who had remained quiet. Ziggy was leaning back against Dillon's chest, safely ensconced in his arms, as Tenaya absently ran a hand through his wild curls. At their gazes, Dillon shrugged. "I don't know where I was. I guess I'd be around 19. I'll just head over to DC."_

_"Same," Tenaya murmured, also shrugging. "Only…18?"_

_Ziggy gave a sigh, his eyes trained on the floor. "I'd be fourteen, almost fifteen, in San Francisco with the cartel."_

_"Wait, you're only 21?" That was Summer._

_"You'd joined the cartel at fourteen?" Scott._

_"Zig?" Flynn._

_Dillon, Kat and Tenaya stayed silent, although Dillon's and tightened around him in support._

_Ziggy chewed on his bottom lip for a moment before raising his eyes. "Yes, I'm only 21. I'll be 22 in a month. And no, I didn't join the cartel. I was sold into it."_

_"What?" Yeah, that was just about everyone._

_Ziggy was uncomfortable. For all that he spoke all the time, he never really talked about himself or his past. It wasn't pleasant, and he didn't need the pity of others. He wasn't anywhere near as innocent as the others believed, and he knew that Kat, Dillon and Tenaya saw it. But the time for secrets was past. They'd won and were currently making plans to do it all over again. Safe in Dillon's arms, Ziggy began telling the others something he had never before shared._

_"When I was seven a semi hit our car. My parents died, and I was sent to live with my Uncle Jethro in DC. That was cool. He was a federal agent. When I was ten, I was on my way to the library after school. Uncle Jethro was on a case and I was supposed to wait there until either he or Tony, one of his agents, picked me up. But…there were these men, and a van and chloroform…and then I was sold to the cartel, and was with them until shortly before I met Dillon."_

_Everyone looked shocked, staring at Ziggy. And then Summer asked, "What, exactly, did you do for the cartel?"_

_But Ziggy clammed up and refused to talk anymore._

_End Flashback_

Ziggy sighed to himself and the memory of that conversation. He'd gotten away from the cartel and onto the train, but he hadn't gotten away unharmed. Combining those injuries with the ones from his 'punishment' yesterday, he was in a bad way. Really, he needed a hospital, but that couldn't happen until he was sure the cartel couldn't find him.

He curled up into a ball in the corner of his seat, giving a small wince. His thoughts wandered to Dillon and Tenaya, wondering where they were and if they were safe. And then to his Uncle Jethro, who was still alive in DC, probably still searching for him if he knew his Uncle. But the cartel were good when it came to their slaves; they wouldn't be found.

His thoughts wandered on, moving from person to place to person, and he fell into a fitful sleep.

* * *

Dillon and Tenaya had just enough money to pay for the train tickets to DC. They felt a little bad for resorting to picking pockets, but they hadn't had anything but the clothes on their backs when they escaped the Venjix lab.

They travelled silently down the car, and then Dillon stopped, frowning to himself. The Grid was buzzing, frantically buzzing actually. Tenaya raised an eyebrow, but he merely shrugged and turned to a specific compartment. Opening the door, he paused then sighed.

"He's so tiny," Tenaya murmured, looking over at the sleeping form of Ziggy. "Conveniently placed, though." Of all the trains in the country, they'd ended up on the same one.

They shut the door behind them and Dillon met the glassy blue eyes that were staring at him. "Hey Zig," he practically whispered. He reached out, cupping Ziggy's cheek with one hand, and frowned darkly. "You're burning up."

"Dillon," Ziggy said in greeting. He stiffly pulled up the leg of his dirty jeans. "Prolly infected," he muttered.

Dillon took a look at the long, twisted cut in his friend's leg. He remembered the scar on the older Ziggy, remembered asking about it and not receiving an answer. But it was definitely infected. Exchanging a glance with his sister, Dillon pulled Ziggy onto his lap, worried about the Green Ranger's lack of focus.

Tenaya left the compartment, and Dillon turned to rocking his sick friend, kissing Ziggy's temple and smoothing his hair. It would be three years before he could hold Ziggy the way he wanted to, but that didn't make him love the Green any less.

Tenaya returned with a first aid kit and started tending to the cut, allowing Dillon to soothe Ziggy when he tried to get away from the pain. "Look at his wrist, too," Dillon murmured. "It's swollen." He turned to Ziggy. "Anything else?" he whispered into the wild curls.

"Ribs," Ziggy gasped, hiding his face in the crook of Dillon's neck. He gave a gasping sob as Tenaya handled his sprained wrist.

"Shh, love," Dillon whispered. "You're okay. We've got you."

"He needs a hospital," Tenaya muttered.

"Cartel," Ziggy warned.

Dillon understood, tightening his arms around Ziggy slightly. "We can chance that. We should make it to DC by tomorrow. Kat will help him."

**Never finished. Although I really want to. Ziggy meets up with his Uncle again. They all start fighting Venjix while Kat tries to create their morphers for them. And it's all fun.**


	20. Harry Potter Massive Xover

**Perhaps Some Other Day:**

**Yeah, this one is massive. It's primarily Harry Potter, but crosses over with, like, everything. Harry gets sent back in time during the fight in the MoM and ends up in the time of LotR. He goes on and on through time, never aging and always meeting up with Death. He makes a bunch of immortal friends, the crew of the Flying Dutchman some of them. He learns a lot. And then he finally makes it back to his own time. These are only two parts of a massive story I never wrote. Although...I do believe I made it into a challenge that's floating around this site somewhere.**

**After being on the Titanic.**

"Such a tragedy," Will murmured as his ship cut through the frigid water, parting the dead bodies that floated frozen among the ice. His crew was busy collecting the souls of those lost and leading them on. Will sighed, and then frowned deeply as there seemed to be a tug on his own soul. That only ever happened with one person but…

Gasping, he rain from his post to the side of the ship, jumping over the railing and diving into the frozen sea. "Captain!" a multitude of his crew yelled in shock. Will ignored them, searching the water for one specific person. It was cold, but as he technically was already dead, it didn't bother him as much as it should have.

Pushing aside the body of a woman, he found who he was looking for and gave a sigh of relief. Hadrian was lying half on, half off a piece of wreckage. He was icy to the touch, entirely too pale, and blue from the cold. Grabbing hold of the small teen, Will gave a sharp whistle, grasping the rope thrown for them and allowing his crew to pull him and his charge aboard.

Will scooped Hadrian into this arms and ran towards his cabin, ignoring the frantic questions of his crew. Placing Hadrian down, he quickly stripped the teen of his soaked clothing and wrapped him in a mountain of blankets. He then changed his own wet clothing, sitting down on the bed next to Hadrian and giving a small sigh. He'd have to contact Jack, as Hadrian couldn't stay on the Flying Dutchman for too long.

The boy was beginning to shiver violently, which was actually a good sign, but Will knew to expect a rather high fever after this. He slipped under the pile of blankets, pulling the teen to his chest and holding him close in an effort to add his own body heat to the mix. "Hadrian," he whispered, running a hand through the boy's damp hair. "You're from the future. You probably knew that ship was going to sink, so why were you even on it?"

Hadrian buried himself deeper into Will's chest, sighing in a way that let Will know that Harry's soul was at peace once again. The way it had been twisting before spoke of a deep-seated loneliness and pain that even loss of consciousness couldn't soothe.

Will held harry close to him throughout the night, soothing the feverish dreams and warding away the cold drafts. He trusted his crew to get the ship away from the Titanic site and to hide the ship from view. They wouldn't be able to dive so long as Hadrian remained on board.

It was mid-afternoon when Jack showed up on board. He stepped inside the Captain's Quarters and watched as Will cajoled the boy into drinking some warm water. "Aye, what 'ave we here?" he asked, when Will gave up.

* * *

**Back in his own time. When he finally makes it to the point where he had left.**

Hadrian remained hidden, watching as his younger self fought Voldemort. He winced as young-Harry flew backwards and hit the wall. Voldemort cackled, raising his wand and casting the curse that would cast Harry back through time. And out of the ensuing explosion, Hadrian walked, absently brushing dust from his robes.

"You missed," he stated softly, watching in amusement as Voldemort threw a mini-tantrum before disappearing with a pop. Dumbledore ran up, followed by the Order members and Harry's four friends. He grinned at them, happy to see them again after so long.

"Mr. Potter!" Dumbledore called. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," he replied, eyeing the scraggly group. "Is everyone okay?"

"We're fine," Hermione said, frowning lightly as she looked her friend over. He looked different than he had ten minutes earlier.

"Welcome back, Harry," Luna said dreamily, sticking her wand behind her ear. "You've been gone a very long time."

Neville gave her an odd look. "He's only been gone for ten minutes or so." Luna merely smiled, and Hadrian smiled back, not bothering to wonder how she could have known of his travels.

"Mr. Potter, if you would come with me," Dumbledore stated. "I believe we have much to talk about."

Hadrian nodded, walking a few steps forward before pausing and staring at something over Remus's shoulder ."Hello Death," he said with a small, odd smile. "Have you come to take me away?"

The others, students and adults alike, gaped at the words, looking about them for whatever Hadrian was addressing. They couldn't see anything at first, but then a shadow detached from the others, moving towards the boy-who-can't-die.

Death smiled and pressed an envelope into Hadrian's hand. "Perhaps another day," she murmured for all to hear, pressing a kiss to Hadrian's cheek before moving on. He looked up at all the pale, staring faces and waved them on.

Looking down at the envelope in his hand, he raised an eyebrow at the familiar scrawl. Pulling the papers free, he began reading, allowing the others to guide him.

_Prongslet,_

_Or should I say Hadrian Jameson? Don't tell anyone, but I'm a bit of a history fanatic. (Can you imagine Moony's face if I told him that?) Well, imagine my surprise when in my reading I found reference of a Hadrian Jameson spanning thousands of years. Better yet, my surprise when I realized who Hadrian Jameson was._

_Death visited me soon after I made the connection. In order for you to be able to go on your journey, I would have to die. Otherwise Voldemort's spell would have killed you. I was okay with dying, and Death made me a rather spectacular deal. _

_You can add me to your list of immortal friends._

_I may have had to die, but I will be returning soon, as one of Death's Reapers. (How could I refuse? She's hot!) I'll be able to stay with you for the most part, although I may disappear from time to time in order to do my job. So if you see a Grim around, don't panic. Besides, you're Death's favorite. You can't die._

_So, stay safe (because even if you can't die, you can still be hurt and we wouldn't want that) and I'll try to meet up with you soon. Thank goodness Bellatrix was able to curse me, otherwise I would have had to trip into the veil, and that would have just been embarrassing._

_Don't curse anyone and take care of Moony for me. _

_See you soon, cub,_

_Padfoot_

Harry smiled, folding the letter up and placing it within his robes. Looking around, he was somewhat surprised to find himself in the Headmaster's office, which was crowded with Order members.

**One day I plan on writing all of this fic...**


	21. Batman Harry Potter

**Platonic: A Batman/Harry Potter X-Over**

**In which Bruce takes in a world weary, jaded Harry Potter and they become extremely close due to some weird mystical thing. But it's all platonic. And Dick Grayson is Nightwing, Jason is dead, and Tim is Robin. Yeah.**

Harry Potter was not in a good mood. He'd gone about three days without food, not caring enough by this point to even try scrounging in the alleys of Gotham. He'd lost everything to the second Wizarding War and couldn't seem to find reason to keep going.

Except that his survival instinct kicked in and wouldn't let him give up. Which led to him getting arrested for pick-pocketing and thrown into a small cell. It was just his luck, actually.

After years of being used and discarded, Harry had learned to turn his back on the world. He had suffered long enough, and if he wasn't allowed to have any shred of happiness, why should he have any kind of emotion? So he sat, staring blankly at the wall and generally disturbing the cops with his utter calmness.

Commissioner Gordon noticed this and it reminded him of a certain vigilante he had come to know rather well. He studied the boy for a moment and then walked to his office to make a call to one Bruce Wayne. A small part of hi was rather pleased to remember catching Batman completely off guard by calling his bluff as Wayne. Gordon kept the secret, knowing the importance of masks, but he allowed himself a little pride in having figured it out.

"Wayne," a tired voice said.

"Sorry to bother you Mister Wayne," Gordon said pleasantly, realizing it was rather early in the morning. "But I have someone here you might be interested in."

"Who?" Bruce asked, his curiosity peaked.

"A boy," Gordon replied "He reminds me of you, actually. Do you feel like taking in a stray?"

Bruce Wayne wasn't sure how he got talked into taking in another kid. Especially a kid that had managed to get himself arrested. (After Jason, Bruce just didn't want another troublemaker…) He entered the police station and was met by Gordon and a kid standing sullenly next to him. Bruce looked him over, and raised an eyebrow.

It was obvious that the kid had had a difficult life. He looked to be seventeen, but malnourishment had left him small for his age. His messy black hair was dirty and hung to his shoulders. Scars crisscrossed his arms liberally, and a strange lightning bolt one was on his forehead. He was whipcord thin, evidence of having gone hungry lately, and yet seemed to be in excellent physical condition.

"What's your name?" Bruce asked softly.

Emerald green eyes of an almost unnatural color rolled in annoyance. "What's it to you?"

Bruce raised an eyebrow. Yeah, this kid was a lot like Jason had been. "Considering you're going to be living with me, I'm going to need something to call you. So either you tell me your name or I'm going to come up with one, and you probably won't like it."

"Harry," came the reluctant reply. "Harry Potter."

"Potter," Bruce responded to the recognized surname. "As in Potter Industries?"

"That's the one," Harry quipped. "I seem to have fallen on hard times…"

**Sitting on this one forever. Probably won't ever get finished.**


	22. Gundam Wing Fic

**Pride**

**A Gundam Wing fic. A massive idea I had earlier this year that I never finished.**

It burned, like fire boiling through his veins. He wanted to scream, but his jaw was clenched too tight to make any sound other than a low moan. His back arched off the ground as the pain intensified, as though his bones were being crushed and his brain liquefied.

And then it was over, the pain disappearing as fast as it had consumed him, leaving him trembling and gasping for breath. He remained limp, his eyes closed, even as he was lifted into somebody's strong arms and cradled against a reassuringly familiar chest.

"Trowa? Trowa, baby, what's wrong?"

He wanted to answer, was desperate to quell Quatre's worry. But he couldn't even find the strength to open his eyes, let alone speak. And the darkness was so comforting, so painless, he just let himself go.

"Trowa?" Quatre murmured again, placing one of his hands against his lover's cheek.

"He's out, Quat," Duo said, his voice betraying his fear and concern. Quatre could taste his braided lover's emotions as clearly as he couldn't reach Trowa's. That was confirmation enough.

"I know," Quatre whispered. "What was that?"

Duo swallowed, shaking his head even as he absently stroked Trowa's calf. He'd been holding the taller pilot's legs down when he'd begun convulsing, but now Duo was using that contact to try and center himself. "Dunno, Quat," Duo mumbled, his eyes fixed on Trowa's pale face.

Quatre shifted his precious burden, taking a deep breath when Trowa made no response. Both Quatre and Duo looked towards the door when Heero and Wufei entered, arguing quietly amongst themselves. They fell silent when they saw the state of the fellow pilots. Quatre and Duo both looked shaken, and Trowa was unconscious. Papers littered the floor, as though they'd accidently been swept off a desk, and one of the office chairs had been tipped. They all stared at each other before Heero realized that Duo was trembling minutely, and he moved forward to pull the smaller pilot towards him.

Quatre shut down his empathy and watched in a blank, detached way as Heero wrapped Duo in a hug and began whispering to him. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he was glad that Duo had such a great friend, such an incredibly close brother. But he didn't want to feel anything, his very being raw and uncomfortable, so he just sat there, shutting out the others and distancing himself from emotion.

Wufei glanced towards the practically cuddling pilots as he checked Trowa over for injuries. Heero and Duo had had their fling during the war, before realizing that they really did make better friends then lovers. In fact, it had been Duo that had pushed Heero and Wufei together, forcing them to act on their feelings. And then the braided pilot had floundered for some time before Quatre and Trowa had managed to pull him into their relationship. However, despite not being together in an intimate fashion, Duo and Heero had remained incredibly close. They were very tactile with each other (granted, Duo was with everyone, but the same could not be said of Heero), and could communicate with each other with merely a glance. Others outside their group hadn't understood how their lovers could be so fine with such an obvious loving relationship, but Quatre, Wufei and Trowa knew the two were brothers beyond that of blood, and they wouldn't begrudge them their strong relationship.

Wufei managed to prod Quatre into helping him lay Trowa on the couch in their office, and then pulled the blond into a hug of his own. "What happened?" he asked softly, conscious of the fact that both Duo and Quatre were completely unsettled. He wished Quatre would open himself up to his normal levels at least, because blocking off his empathy tended to result in ZERO gaining control.

Quatre gave a sigh and then relaxed in his friend's arms, letting himself taste the emotions around him. Wufei had the faint taste of relief, and Quatre winced, feeling a little guilty at further worrying his friend. "We're not sure," he finally replied. "Trowa collapsed."

"He just fell over and started convulsin'," Duo added roughly, still tucked safely away in Heero's arms.

"There was so much pain," Quatre whispered. "I had to pull back. I couldn't help him." Wufei shushed him when it became obvious that Quatre was getting distressed again, and then handed the blond over to Heero and Duo.

"I'll get Sally," he said softly, before turning and leaving the office.

Slowly, Quatre and Duo relaxed and Heero let them go, eyeing them silently. Amusingly enough, Heero was a bit of a mother-hen (so was Quatre, but really, that was to be expected). Trowa and Wufei tended to be the overprotective ones, and Duo was the best comforter out of all of them. Quatre and Duo shot Heero semi-annoyed looks, knowing what he was doing, and then set towards picking up the office. If the two took the time to gently stroke Trowa's cheek a few times, Heero didn't make any mention of it. Wufei returned shortly with Sally, who hustled over to begin examining the Heavyarms pilot.

"He had a seizure?" she asked, frowning.

"Yes," Quatre murmured in reply. He tasted Sally's confusion, like lemons on his tongue, and frowned as well.

"He hasn't ever had them before, right?"

"Not that we know of," Duo answered, and the others backed him up on that by nodding.

Sally sighed, putting down the handheld scanner she had brought with her. (Trowa was tall and heavy and it was usually easier to come to him than to try and get him to her if he wasn't conscious.) She slumped slightly. "Aside from mild shock, I can't find anything wrong. I can take some blood and test it, but I honestly have no idea as to what could have caused this."

"Poison?" Heero asked, cold blue eyes cutting towards her.

"It's possible," she answered honestly, going about the blood extraction process. She purposely ignored Heero's and Quatre's shifting, knowing how uncomfortable they got around needles. They would have never shown that phobia during the wars, but those times were over and the gundam pilots were slowly opening up, to the other Preventers at the very least.

She straightened, eying the five teenagers. They had changed in the two years since the wars. The formation of their intimate relationships weren't the only thing either, as they had all grown up. In fact, they were probably more mature at eighteen than any of the adults in the buildings, if one graded on level of experience.

Trowa, who was thought to be the oldest of the group (although they really had no actual proof of that), had reached a height of six foot three, easily the tallest of the five. He was still extremely fit – they all were—and able to pull of amazing acrobatic feats that should have been impossible for humans. He also spoke more, although not as much as some of his companions, and wasn't afraid to show emotion around those that knew him well. His missing memories still bothered him, especially when they triggered a response that he didn't understand. For instance, why he tended to shy away from bicycles was an irrational fear that he would never figure out.

Quatre had lost his baby-face, gaining the elegant, chiseled looks that suited him as a CEO. He was now five foot eight, the third tallest, and just as slim as he had always been. He worked part-time at Preventers, splitting his time between that organization and Winner Enterprises (which his sisters helped him run). He was a solider more than a desk-worker, and Preventers helped him work out any frustration in a more productive way. Quatre's space-heart had also changed, although none of them really understood how. He'd tried to explain before how the emotions he picked up weren't only felt by himself, but were like tastes on the air, but no one really got it. He too, though, was more open now (like with the revelation of his needle phobia) and more willing to share when something was wrong, as opposed to the bottling up he had done before.

Heero hadn't quite opened up that much, although he wasn't as cold as he had been during the wars. He was definitely more gentle with those he cared about (especially Wufei and Duo), at the very least. Despite the genetic manipulation the Doctors had put him through (hence his own needle phobia), he had shot up to a height of five foot ten. His cobalt blue eyes and chiseled features, as well as his fine physique and messy hair had many women swooning. It really was no surprise that Relena had spent years stalking him. It was much cause of amusement for Wufei, who had complete trust in his lover, and loved to see Heero squirm (although most just saw the Glare ™ that the pilots translated as 'squirming').

Wufei for his part had really grown into his looks. At five foot six, with his long black hair falling to mid-back, he looked much like a Chinese prince. His own would be suitors only stayed away out of fear of Heero's glares. His search for justice had tamed, as had his short temper. Probably the most surprising change was the mischievous streak that had cropped up. Wufei, for some reason, would often join Duo to prank those he felt deserved it. Perhaps, Sally mused, the Chinese agent hadn't given up on meting out justice, but had merely moved to a different kind.

Duo had changed the least of the pilots. Due to his past of malnutrition and suspected abuse, he hadn't managed to gain any height, staying at five foot two inches. He'd lost what little baby-fat he'd had, but his large eyes and sharp, high cheekbones had only served to make him seem more feminine and fragile, much to his consternation. (Let it be known that Duo Maxwell was in no way fragile.) He also still had trouble keeping any weight on, and Sally often found herself wanting to put him on a specific diet. And out of all five pilots, Duo had the longest list of idiosyncrasies and phobias. Because while Trowa and Heero's childhoods hadn't been pleasant, they had at least been stable, and Duo hadn't even had that luxury. It showed in the little things, if you knew what to look for.

Sally shook her head, pocketing the vial. "I'll go start the tests, but I honestly don't think there's anything drastically wrong." She caught the frowns and shrugged. "All we can do is watch and wait."

They weren't pleased with that answer, but there really wasn't much she could do about that. And so, she merely turned and left, heading back to her lab.

End Chapter

Chapter Two

He didn't know where he was. It was dark and mostly silent, aside from the faint whispers. He turned, so as to better hear, but found himself stumbling seeing as how he was on all fours instead of standing straight.

Looking down, he found his hands replaced by large recognizable paws. Lion's paws. He lifted one and extracted the sharp claws, feeling his tail flick behind him. He had paws and a tail. The thought made his ears go back, and then he gave a grumbling sigh, shaking out his mane and settling back on his haunches.

Okay, so he was stuck in what was essentially a dark void and he was a lion. He'd like to say that stranger things had happened to him—he was a gundam pilot, after all—but really, they hadn't.

The whispers were starting again and Trowa strained to hear. He was shocked to find that he recognized the voices as the Doctors, the Mad Five.

"_Has the procedure worked?"_

"_Quite well, in fact. Indeed, our greatest success."_

"_Some of the effects, though. They may not generate for years."_

Trowa shook his head, confused. He couldn't remember having heard this conversation before.

"_Are you sure this one cannot hear?"_

"_This boy? No, he's drugged up to the gills. Completely unaware."_

"_Which feline did you finally decide to splice?"_

Splice? What were the Doctors talking about? Trowa was perfectly willing to believe that this was one of his missing memories. Or, perhaps a buried one.

"_An African lion."_

_Laughter. "Ah yes, Oh-Three with the instincts of a lion. Very nice."_

"_What of the others?"_

"_A jaguar for Oh-One, panther for Oh-Two, leopard for Oh-Four and Siberian tiger for Oh-Five."_

"_Project Pride, our greatest accomplishment." Agreements all around."_

"_And everyone said DNA splicing was impossible."_

DNA splicing. Trowa unconsciously bared his fangs, angry beyond reason. He knew that the Doctors had manipulated his and the other pilots' genetics to some extent (Heero's more so than any of them), but to splice an animal's DNA into their own? That was completely unethical and could have very likely killed them all.

"_When will the enhanced senses come online?"_

"_There is no way to tell. Chances are they will have some abilities from the get-go. It could be years before the DNA fully fuses, however. I don't envy them the pain that should cause."_

"_Nor the shock to their system."_

Shoot. The others were going to have to go through that same mind-numbing pain? That completely sucks. Trowa shook his head again; he'd been hanging around Duo too much, he was beginning to pick up the braided pilot's speech. The whispers faded away as the memory ended, and Trowa leapt to his feet, still furious.

He paced angrily, his tail lashing and ears back. They'd ended the wars, they were happy now. And then a stupid choice of the Doctors was ruining it all again. Who knew what that DNA could do? How it would affect Duo's Shinigami or Quatre's ZERO. He hardly noticed as his anger made him get lost in the lion's instincts that the darkness was fading into light.

Someone was touching him, and caught in his fury, he twisted and pounced, pinning the person to the ground. It was easy prey; he was bigger and at least fifty pounds heavier. He growled softly, a deep rumbling sound, and got a small, nearly inaudible whimper in reply. Gratified by his prey's fear, he looked down and caught amethyst eyes. And froze, the lion bleeding away and leaving Trowa pinning Duo. His little Duo who he loved with all his heart. His little Duo who _hated_ being pinned with a passion that practically _screamed_ past trauma. (Heero had warned everyone of that before any of the relationships cropped up, which they were all thankful for. A panicking Duo was no fun at all.) Trowa quickly rolled off the braided pilot, curling up on his side and burying his head in his arms. He hadn't noticed before, but it was hurting something awful.

His ears were too sensitive, and everything was much too loud. The light was too bright, and everything was just too clear. And the smells were so strong, smells that he'd hardly noticed them before. He curled up a little tighter unable to stop the small whimper before it escaped.

Duo sat up slowly, amethyst eyes wide and blinking. Quatre had warned him not to touch Trowa when the taller teen had started to come around. He'd said that the emotions were unstable, too much anger and not enough Trowa. Duo, though, hadn't listened, and had ended up pinned to the floor, staring up into familiar emeralds that were just _different._ The slit pupils—like a cat, really—and pure anger had startled him enough that he hadn't gotten terribly upset at being pinned.

"So much anger," Quatre whispered, one hand over his heart. "He was furious. I've never really felt that from Trowa before."

"And now?" Heero asked, eyeing Trowa before stepping forward. Duo was stroking Oh-Three's back in an attempt to get him to uncurl.

Quatre took a deep breath. "Pain. And frustration." He frowned. "Confusion."

Heero nodded and placed a hand on Trowa's back, leaning towards his comrade. If Trowa was angry, then it meant he knew something about what happened. And Heero needed to find out what that was. "Oh-Three, report." Using old war commands would probably be enough to shock Trowa into answering.

"Mad Five," Trowa nearly whispered, his voice harsh. "Project Pride." Heero relayed that to Wufei, who nodded and moved towards a computer.

"Status?" Duo murmured.

"Sore," Trowa mumbled, knowing better than to downplay when Quatre was in the room. "Head hurts." Duo gave a sympathetic hum, running a gentle hand through Trowa's hair. Heero made to get up, probably to help Wufei search the computers the Preventers had confiscated from the Doctors' labs after the Mariemaia incident. But before he could stand, a hand fastened around his wrist, holding him back. Heero blinked, looking down.

Trowa was staring out the office door, his visible green eye glittering dangerously. Heero met Duo's confused gaze, but could only shrug. Quatre's hand was hovering over his heart, and he was frowning in confusion. But he gave a sudden gasp as Sally practically barreled into the room and Trowa started growling.

Sally, unaware of this sudden predicament, started babbling about sudden inconsistencies in DNA and such before Wufei managed to cut her off.

The Chinese teen was eyeing Trowa in concern. The other pilot was tense, no longer curled on the floor, but crouched and ready to spring. And he was growling, a low deep sound that should have been impossible for a human to replicate.

Trowa, for his part, was somewhat confused but the instinctive anger was overriding everything else. This woman –Sally—was not one of his and she was intruding without any respect to his territory. He was glad when Wufei managed to get her to stop talking—his ears still hurt—but she was still there. She was standing far too close to Wufei and Quatre, and that wasn't right. Quatre was _his_, and so was Wufei, although not quite in the same way, and this woman needed to back off or he would make her.

Quatre worried his bottom lip between his teeth, trying to analyze the emotions coming from his love so he could possibly defuse the situation. But the feelings were hard to capture as they had an animalistic tinge to them that Quatre was unfamiliar with. And then his eyes widened as he suddenly understood.

"Sally, don't move," he ordered softly. He glanced towards Wufei, motioning for him to go over to the others. Wufei did so, ignoring Sally's confused protests.

"What's going on?" Sally asked, frowning.

Quatre didn't answer, backing up until he felt Trowa's hand brush his pant leg and latch around his ankle. Trowa's growl died off, and he relaxed slightly, but he continued to glare at Sally.

"Po," Heero spoke up suddenly from where he was kneeling next to Trowa. "Tell Une we're going home early. Email your findings to us."

"But—" Sally didn't really want to be the one to talk to Commander Une about this.

"Sally," Duo warned, uncharacteristically serious. That was enough to get her to agree and leave the office.

Trowa slumped as soon as she disappeared. Her scent lingered, but it didn't bother him as much as her actual presence. He made a little agitated sound, annoyed that his mask was cracking so soundly and quickly.

"Let's go home," Heero said, his hand firmly on Trowa's shoulder.

End Chapter

Chapter Three

They all lived in the same house on the outskirts on the city. While it was a forty-five minute drive to Preventer Headquarters for work, they deemed it worth it for the solitude the house provided. Backed up against the woods, the two-story house, covered in climbing, flowery vines, was picturesque and not something one would expect five former terrorists to live in.

It was a pretty red Victorian with two floors and a full basement. The basement held the laundry room and storage room, as well as a half-bath. There was a kitchenette in one corner, and a complete home entertainment center in another. The rest of the large, open space had been converted to a gym and dojo for training.

The ground floor held a living room, dining room, large office, a large kitchen and a half bath. The rooms were all decorated nicely, with evidence of five teenage boys living there. There was a sword resting on the coffee table in the living room. Paperwork was spread across one of the desks in the office. A flute rested on the bottom steps of the stairs, and shoes crowded the floor under the kitchen island.

Upstairs were four bedrooms, although two had been converted to master suites. The other two rooms were for guests, and had a full bath between them. Heero and Wufei's suite was somewhat smaller than the other, but they had no complaint on the matter. Their room was done in tans and reds, the furniture a dark mahogany. There was a large painting of a Chinese dragon and phoenix on the wall across from a window. The bed was set in the bay window, as both Heero and Wufei liked the light. And, in an attempt for more comfort, there were glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling.

The room shared by Trowa, Quatre and Duo was slightly larger, but without the bay window. It was painted in a mixture of blues, purples and greens that was very soothing. The furniture was all gorgeously carved cherry wood and set strategically around the room. There was a painting on one wall of the desert at night, and another of all five pilots—painted by none other than Duo, who, as it turned out, was an amazing artist. And, like the others, there were stars on their ceiling as well.

As it was, though, they were congregated in the living room. This room was done in earth tones and was incredibly homey. Trowa was curled up on the couch (this couch, unlike the one in the basement, really wasn't capable of comfortably fitting his entire frame stretched out) in front of the fireplace, with Quatre watching over him from the nearby armchair. Duo was in the kitchen checking on their dinner as really, only he, Trowa and Wufei could cook worth anything, and Heero and Wufei were seated on the giant window seat they'd built in their bay window.

Quatre was dozing off when he suddenly felt anger coming from the two in the window, and he twisted in his chair to gaze at them. "What's wrong?" he asked softly, gaining the attention of Duo in the kitchen, who then came out to join them. (The house wasn't really all that large, and considering the entire ground floor had wooden floors, sound carried quite easily from room to room.)

Wufei gave a sigh, rubbing at the bridge of his nose as he pushed back his anger. "Okay, we'll start with what Sally found. Apparently, each of us had extra bits in our DNA which she attributed to genetic manipulation done by the Doctors. Each of the bits were practically separate and didn't mean much on their own. However, according to Trowa's blood tests, his DNA resequenced itself to fuse in those bits. All at once."

Quatre and Duo blinked. "Ouch," they muttered, not noticing that they were speaking in unison.

Heero gave a short nod. "As for the Project Pride that Barton mentioned…" his eyes narrowed a bit, "It explains those extra bits. They are, apparently, feline DNA."

"Excuse me?" Quatre murmured, eyes widening. They were what?

"The Doctors spliced feline DNA into our won when we were training with them. It wasn't the first time they'd tried either; the other experiments all died," Wufei explained.

"The shock to their system was too much," Heero added. "There were too many changes all at once."

"So they tried something different with us," Wufei continued. "They spliced the DNA in such a way that only certain aspects were active from the start and the others would come 'online' later. Possibly years later."

"Certain aspects?" Duo questioned, balancing himself on the back of the couch with very little effort.

"Balance," Heero murmured, motioning to Duo right then. "Stealth, strength, survival instinct," he rattled off. "Enhanced senses, although nowhere near as enhanced as they would be upon full fusion."

"They also 'programmed' us with a pack instinct," Wufei said, scowling slightly. "Since they wanted us to work together, and large cats are generally solitary animals."

There was silence for a moment, and then Quatre sighed. "So all of us are going to go through what Trowa did today?"

Wufei shrugged. "There's no way to tell for sure if it will be in that same fashion or not. But this um…experiment happened to all of us at about the same time, so we can probably expect this fusing to happen soon."

"Except maybe you, Duo," Heero said slowly. His cobalt eyes met confused amethyst. "You were two weeks or so later than the rest of us because Doctor G was worried about your size and age."

"My age?" Duo frowned, not really caring about the size issue; he knew he was small. However, he was reasonably sure that he had been around twelve when he had first met Doctor G and was taken off the streets again.

"Apparently," Heero drawled, somewhat amused. "You're two years younger than the rest of us."

"Wait. What?" Duo blinked. That would have made him six when he was taken in by the Maxwell Church.

"You're only sixteen," Wufei grinned. "Just as baby, really."

Duo scowled at the Chinese pilot, and Heero whacked Wufei lightly with the back of his hand. "Be nice." He glanced at the computer in his lap. "G's first experiment failed and then he picked up you. He was worried about your age, since markers put you about ten, but you seemed to think you were older and you were more mature than most, so he decided to go ahead and have you pilot Deathscythe."

"Huh," Duo mumbled. "Well, that sucks."

"You're no longer a legal adult," Quatre said. "Lady Une needs to know about this, at the very least. And Duo, according to the law, can't live without a guardian."

Heero shrugged. "We're eighteen, Trowa's actually nineteen according to these notes. I'll file for Duo's guardianship as his brother. Une knows better than to split us up."

That was true. Even right after the wars, when all the boys had been under the legal age and she'd finally merged her two personalities, she had refused to split them up. Instead, Rashid had been granted custody until they turned eighteen (or so they thought) and then he had moved to a house across the city.

Trowa grumbled something, reaching up and tugging on Duo's braid hard enough to unbalance the boy. Trowa caught him as he fell onto the couch, cuddling the younger pilot sleepily. "Mine," he mumbled against Duo's neck, making the braided pilot squirm somewhat. But Trowa was already asleep again, so Duo relaxed in the hold and thought over everything they'd learned so far.

"So…this pack instinct… Is that why Trowa growled at Sally?" he asked.

Quatre blushed. "She was too close to us," he answered, remembering the emotions he had picked up. "She's not part of the pack and was too close to Wufei and me. Specifically, me." Duo snickered and Quatre glowered at him testily.

"Enough," Wufei sighed, getting up and stretching. "We'll deal with all of this later. Maxwell, what's for dinner?"

"There's a chicken in the oven," Duo answered, nuzzling his face into Trowa's hair. "Should be done soon."

"Good," Wufei grumbled. "I'm hungry."

Trowa awoke the next morning feeling much better than he had the day before. He was in bed, under the dark blue covers, and spooned up against Quatre. He could feel Duo, curled up in his usual ball, pressed up against his back. He pressed soft kisses to Quatre's neck, delighting in the small sigh he got, and then carefully got up, trying not to wake his lovers. Quatre tended to sleep like a rock now that the wars were over, but Duo was an incredibly light sleeper, a habit picked up on the streets. He pressed a gentle kiss to Duo's forehead when amethyst eyes blinked at him sleepily. "Go back to sleep, meli," he whispered.

Duo gave a tired hum and complied, rolling over to snuggle with Quatre in the warm place Trowa had left behind in the large bed. Trowa gave a gentle smile and headed down the stairs and to the kitchen. He was halfway through a glass of milk before remembering that he really didn't like milk.

He stared at the glass in his hand before shrugging and drinking the rest. Absently wondering what else Project Pride had changed, he listened to Wufei and Heero get ready for the day as he started making French Toast and coffee for breakfast. And then he realized that he really shouldn't be able to hear what was going on upstairs. He gave a soft growl of annoyance, running his tongue over canines that were just a little too long, and a little too sharp. "Coffee's ready," he said, not bothering to turn and face Heero. He'd known that Oh-One was there based solely on scent and hearing.

"You okay, Barton?" Heero asked, pouring himself a cup of coffee and sitting down on one of the barstools.

Trowa gave a faint hum, keeping his emerald eyes trained on the purple walls—a few shades darker than Duo's eyes—until he was relatively sure he could speak without hissing. "Annoyed," he said bluntly. "I suddenly have uncontrollable instincts and I don't know what to do with them." He sighed, tilting his head to one side. "Wufei can't find his shoes."

Heero eyed his friend for a long moment, taking the plate of food handed to him. "And physically?" he asked.

Trowa remained silent for a moment, cataloguing. His head no longer hurt, and his muscles weren't so achingly weak anymore, but there was a persistent ache at the base of his spine. Frankly, it felt much like a deep bruise. "My lower back hurts, but I'm overall feeling fine."

"So you'll be able to go into work?" Wufei asked as he joined them in the kitchen, scowling as he spotted his shoes under the bar.

Trowa handed him a plate of food as well, rocking back on his heels. His two comrades were already dressed in their Preventers uniforms, while he himself was still only in his pajama pants (as he usually slept shirtless). "I suppose, but I can't promise I'll react rationally at times."

"You should probably think about apologizing to Po," Heero pointed out absently. Sally had been somewhat disturbed by Trowa's actions the day before.

Trowa hissed in sudden annoyance, unconsciously baring his fangs. "She should think about staying away from what is mine," he bit out, turning back to the stove.

Wufei and Heero exchanged somewhat startled looks, not sure how to take that. However, Trowa had mentioned that he might be a little irrational. They shrugged and turned back to their food.

"Perhaps you should stay home, baby," Quatre said from where he leaned against the doorframe. He looked adorably sleepy, barefoot in his pajama pants and tank top, his hair mussed by sleep. Trowa hadn't heard him come in, too caught up in his agitation, but he had smelled him. That impossible scent of sand and ink.

He spun around, stalking forward to grab Quatre and press his face to the blonde's neck. That scent was intoxicating, he decided, and he was curious to know exactly how Duo smelled as well. He'd been too distracted this morning to pay attention. "Mine," he growled, lifting his head just enough to rub his cheek against Quatre's in an extremely cat-like move.

"Yours, baby," Quatre agreed, a little wide-eyed as he glanced towards the other two pilots. They were no help, however, as they just shrugged. Quatre sighed. "Go on ahead," he said to Heero. "We'll join you at the office soon."

And he dragged Trowa off, presumably to go back upstairs.

Chapter End

Chapter Three

As it turned out, Duo smelled of soil and metal, an earthy smell that was just as intoxicating as Quatre's. They also discovered that Trowa's tongue was rougher, although not quite as sand-papery as an actual cat's. That, in combination with his new fangs, could be used to drive Duo to complete distraction. (Which, frankly, only made the smells even better.)

But they made it to the office without mishap, something that both pleased Quatre and worried him. They hadn't had a fight in some time, and Quatre couldn't help but think another one could be brewing. Contrary to what most seemed to think, they were not the quiet, perfectly happy threesome. They were too different and too strong to be deemed as such. No one needed to be protected, like many thought of both Quatre and Duo, and Trowa didn't have to be continuously reassured about his worth. That was just silly. Quatre was strong-willed and opinionated, Duo brash and out-spoken and Trowa stubborn and silent. They clashed at times and when they did it was usually loud, and sometimes even violent.

But Quatre was also patient, and Duo was incredibly innocent despite how their lives had panned out. And Trowa was so loving that it took their breaths away. They meshed so absolutely despite their differences that the fights were inevitable, and often led to better understanding. (For that matter, Heero and Wufei were the same way, but people tended to expect that of them.) Perhaps such reactions were simply to be expected after the lives they had led. No one understood the pilots better than the other pilots.

**Never finished.**


	23. Power Rangers Ninja Storm

**A large PRNS fic that crosses over with Final Fantasy VII. It also goes throughout the other Power Ranger series, like Dino Thunder and Overdrive. Focuses on Hunter, Blake and Cam.**

"There's something about the Bradleys," Cam murmured to this father one night after all the Rangers had left. "And it worries me."

"You do not trust them?" Sensei Watanabe asked back, looking u at this son from his habitat. Surely Cam wasn't still holding a grudge against the two Thunders for holding him captive. The Thunders had proven themselves time and time again in the following battles against Lothor.

"I trust them with my life," Cam stated bluntly, giving the guinea-pig a look. "Surely you've noticed how they act."

Sensei had always prided himself on being observant, but at this moment, he was feeling confused. "Like normal teenagers. Who are Rangers."

Cam gave an exasperated sigh. "I can't be the only one who's noticed," he mumbled, rubbing at his face. "Yes, Dad, they act like normal teenagers. Mostly. But they're too tense. They don't like being touched by anyone but each other. They stay out of small, dark spaces. They flinch at loud noises."

Sensei was silent as he considered that and realized it was true. "What are you saying, Cameron?"

"They both suffer from Post-Traumatic-Stress-Disorder. And they have for quite a while. Longer than they've been Rangers, most likely."

Sensei sighed, knowing that if his son said it was so, then it probably was. "They must come to us for help, my son. We cannot force it upon them."

Cam rolled his eyes, turning back to his computer. "I know, Dad. But they're stubborn. I'd be surprised if they ever asked."

* * *

**About a week after the first part.**

"Cam?"

The Samurai turned at the soft voice, taking in the two Thunders standing guardedly in front of him. They were both looking pale and tired, and Cam was pretty sure that Blake was running a fever. "Yes?"

"We need help," Hunter murmured. The blue eyes didn't waver from his face, but they were wary, almost as though Hunter expected to be denied.

Cam was suddenly glad the Winds were watching Shane's competition today. "What can I do?" he asked softly.

Hunter and Blake glanced at each other, unsure what to say. Finally, the younger shrugged tiredly and Hunter gave a sigh. "I…we…I don't know."

Cam motioned the two to sit down and the Bradlyes did so reluctantly. They looked just about ready to bolt. Taking pity on them, as well as being rather concerned, Cam decided to help them along. "What's the problem?"

There was another long silence before Blake spoke up. "We were evicted."

"Why?" cam asked, although honestly he wasn't too surprised.

"Either we pay rent or we eat," Hunter grumbled. "You can't really do both." Although, by how thin the two looked, it was obvious they were struggling still. The enhanced metabolism of being a Ranger was definitely not helping. "And being a Ranger doesn't make for good hours at work."

Cam nodded slowly, eyeing the two. "There's an extra room here at Ops. It's small, but the two of you are free to have it." He tilted his head to one side as the brothers suddenly looked even more wary, as though they were expecting a shoe to drop. "There's no catch. It's free help."

"People don't help us," Blake scoffed, eyes trained solely on the ground as he leaned against his brother. "They use us."

* * *

**Two months later, they're still fighting, but the Bradleys have been adopted by Sensei. They're also seeing a counselor that's 'in-the-know' about the Rangers (Cam's girlfriend, Trini (remember her?) who is a psychiatrist). This part actually had more to it, but I can't find it. Marvin is Tori's father who has come to visit and wants Tori to go home to LA with him to live with him, her mother and sister again.**

"How are the Bradleys?" Tori asked as Shane pointed out the respective riders to her father.

Cam glanced at her. "They're doing a lot better. The counseling has helped. As has the official adoption."

"And now you're a big brother," Tori grinned, shooting a look at her father, as he turned back to their conversation.

Cam rolled his eyes. "I already was." They watched as Blake pulled ahead of his brother and Dustin. "He's definitely good enough to go pro," the Green Ranger commented.

Shane nodded. "Yeah, man. That's his plan isn't is?" At Cam's nod, he grinned and continued. "Dustin's more into freestyle. What's Hunter planning on majoring in?"

Cam grinned. "He's already graduated. Earlier this year."

The others, Marvin included, all gaped. "Really?" Tori asked. "But he's only seventeen! What did he major in?"

Cam smirked. "That would be telling."

Shane shook his head with a smile. "Now there's two geniuses in the family. Your father must be proud."

Before Cam could answer, their morphers beeped and an explosion sounded. Tori screamed as Blake flew off his bike, tumbling across the ground before lying still. Cam had jumped the fence and started running before Hunter could even stop his bike.

Kelzaks appeared and Tori yelled for her father to get down as she kicked some out of her way. Marvin watched in complete astonishment as her daughter fought off the red and black aliens with expert precision, her two friends right next to her.

* * *

**This takes place WAY in the future, after Dino Thunder and the whole FFVII crossover part. In fact, that part is rather well explained in this part. So..yeah...**

"Cool," a voice said and Andrew spun around, startled. He stared at the dark-skinned young man standing in the Command Center. The stranger grinned at him. "Awesome place you got here. Cam would be terribly jealous."

Andrew blinked. "Who are you?"

"Oh!" The young man laughed. "Sorry about that. I'm Blake Bradley, the Navy Thunder Ranger. Lost my Power a while back, but the blue Ranger filling in for your team is one of my teammates. I decided to tag along."

"Um…okay," Andrew said, not knowing exactly what to say to that. He turned back to the screen in time to see the badguys disappear and the substitute team demorph and help the Overdrive Rangers up. "Navy?" he asked.

"Yup. My brother's Crimson." Blake shrugged, still wandering around the Center. "Unconventional, but the color of our elements."

"We have-had-a Mercury Ranger," Andrew murmured.

"Still have," Blake corrected. "Once a Ranger, always a Ranger. They'll get their Power back because their job isn't over yet."

"Looking into the future, Blake?" a female dressed in blue asked with a grin.

Blake kissed her cheek. "Nah. That's Hunter's job. This is just common sense." **(As a note, I made Hunter somewhat psychic in this. He can't control it though.)**

All the Rangers, past and present, crowded into the rom. "Hey, I'm Xander. Green Mystic Ranger," the green stated in an Australian accent.

"Bridge Carson. Red SPD Ranger," the red grinned, waving.

"This place would have Haley so jealous," the yellow murmured, looking around.

"Hello Kira!" Blake said, startling her into noticing the others.

"Oh! Sorry. I'm Kira. Yellow Dino Thunder Ranger."

"Tori Hanson, Blue Ninja Storm Ranger.

The last and oldest Ranger stepped into view and Blake gave a happy chirp. "Adam!" he exclaimed, practically jumping at the man.

Kira blinked. "He did the same thing to Dr. O."

"I'm never going to get used to hearing Tommy called a doctor…Hello Kitten," Adam smiled, running a hand through Blake's hair. "I'm Adam Park, Black Morphin' Ranger."

The Overdrive Rangers all introduced themselves and made their way up to the mansion. Sprawled across couches and chairs, they were completely relaxed. Blake had laid himself across both Adam and Tori, both of whom were smiling indulgently.

Bridge was frowning slightly, gazing at the three. "You aren't human," he finally said to Blake. "You used to be, but you aren't anymore."

"And you tree obviously know each other well," Rose said.

Tori grinned. "Actually, this is the first time I've met Adam." She turned to him. "Good to meet you, by the way. And thanks for helping out my boys so long ago."

"No problem," Adam grinned. He looked over at Bridge. "How can you tell about Blake?"

Bridge suddenly looked sheepish. "I'm um…psychic. The gloves help, but I'm always picking up something."

The others took it better than Bridge thought they would. Although Adam rolled his eyes. "Am I the only one here without some sort of 'super-power'?"

"Ribbit-ribbit," Blake muttered.

Adam poked him in the ribs as Tori choked on a laugh. "Hush you. That doesn't count."

"This isn't explaining how Blake isn't human," Dax pointed out, only to get smacked by Ronny.

Tori frowned. "It's a long story."

Mack shrugged, glancing at the others. "We have time."

Tori looked at the new mish-mash team, but they all looked interested too. "We were fighting Lothor, our evil space ninja. Hunter and Blake had been tricked into working for him before learning the truth and joining our team. And Cam, our Green Ranger, realized that they were both suffering from PTSD. Badly." She paused, placing a hand against Blake's back. "So Cam got them help and convinced his father-who was our mentor and actually a guinea-pig at the time-to officially adopt them."

She smiled grimly at the others. "We were at the track, as Hunter, Blake and Dustin-our Yellow-were into motocross. And a monster appeared and blasted Blake off his bike. He didn't get back up." She had to pause again, and Kira placed a hand on her shoulder. "Shane, our Red, Dustin and I were fighting off the Kelzaks-like lava lizards and flurries-while Hunter and Cam took care of Blake. He must have been hurt bad because Hunter lost control and called a lightning storm."

Blake yawned and sat up. "I died," he said bluntly. "Vincent said that in order for Hojo to do what he did to me, I had to be dead. So either that blast killed me when it broke my back, or Hojo killed me when he found me."

Tori stareed at him with wide eyes, obviously not having heard that before. Will cleared his throat, exchanging a glance with Tyzonne. "How are you alive now?"

Blake stretched in a way that simply wasn't natural, and plopped back down in Adam's lap. "We, me and Hunter and Cam-"

"Hunter, Cam and I," Rose absently corrected.

Blake flashed her a sharp-toothed grin. "Whatever. We were hit with another blast and transported to another world. We were all separated as well. Hunter fell into what the people there called the Lifestream. Nobody survives that, but my bro did. And he got stronger, faster and better senses out of it. Cam also fell into the Lifestream, but it changed him in a different way."

"He's a vampire," Adam clarified.

"Uh huh," Blake nodded. "But he needs to feed of Mako-infused blood, and Hunter's is the only one in this world with that. Due to his trip through the Lifestream, which is essentially Mako. …Um…Hunter and Cam found each other and joined a group called Avalanche and helped save the world." He paused, frowning.

"I don't actually know how long we were separated, or what really happened to me. My memory is sketchy at best, even after Hunter and Cam found me. I was found in a lab, though, and something had obviously happened." He shrugged. "Vincent was a member of Avalanche, who had been experimented on by the same mad scientist, so he knew-to a point-what I was going through. Apparently, Hojo had spliced the soul of a monster-a Hellcat-with my own. Don't think too hard on that. I really can't explain."

Tori smiled. "He's now able to change into a scary looking cat-thing."

Blake nodded. "Yup. I'm a freak of nature." He gave a completely nonchalant shrug. "So, while Hunter and Cam were trying to…socialize me, they also figured out a way to get home to our world."

"Only they miscalculated and ended up in the wrong time," Adam said. "We got a really big surprise when three people suddenly appeared in our Power Chamber."

**Huge idea that hasn't really gone anywhere. Maybe someday though...**


	24. An Alex Rider Fic

**Save Me**

**An Alex Rider fic that never got finished.**

Alex Rider was on a mission when Jack called Ben Daniels. He came over, looking both worried and confused by the phone call requesting his arrival. He didn't know Jack very well, didn't even know Alex very well if he were honest with himself. So the fact that she had called him for help was rather puzzling.

She stood in the kitchen after leading him inside, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. "My father has cancer. He only has three months to live, so I'm going back to America for those three months."

Okay, cue the onset of even more confusion. Ben raised an eyebrow, a silent request for her to continue. "Alex needs someone to care for him. He's independent and all, but he's still only fourteen. And if I let MI6 choose where he's to go, chances are he's going to end up in an orphanage."

"MI6 wouldn't do that," Ben started, but then he stopped because there was a hopelessness in Jack's eyes that told him that MI6 _would._

"Why do you think Alex even works for them? Did you think he wanted to be a secret agent?" Jack asked, and although her voice was soft, there was a vicious bite to it. "They've changed him. And it scares me."

Ben frowned. That was true. When he had first met Alex with the rest of K-Unit, their Cub had been lively, although rather annoyed, and had a bite that seemed to be worse than his bark. On that last mission that Ben had had with Alex, the boy had been subdued. Dark. And the older agent hadn't known what to do about it.

Jack sighed, running a hand through her hair. "He doesn't talk. He's falling behind in school. He hardly sleeps. He's started cutting himself and I…" she trailed off, not meeting Ben's eyes, which had widened in slight shock. "Blunt won't allow him to have a therapist as Alex's security clearance is the highest level. Apparently all the psychiatrists would be put into danger if he were to talk to them."

Well that wasn't right. No agent could get through their jobs without talking to a therapist. So why would Blunt expect a fourteen year old to be able to? "What do you want me to do?" he asked softly.

Jack pushed some papers towards him and he was surprised to find that they were temporary guardianship forms. They were completely filled out except for where he would have to sign. "Please?" she asked. "I love Alex, but he needs more help than I can give him. More help than Blunt is willing to give him. You can at least understand some of what he's gone through. And you've got those other K people to help you."

Ben, honestly, didn't know how to take care of a kid, but no one would ever really say that Alex was still a kid. He didn't even hesitate in signing the forms. And then he was thoroughly surprised by Jack throwing her arms around his neck and kissing his cheek in thanks.

So it was two weeks later when Alex returned to an empty house and a letter from Jack taped on the back of the door.

_Alex,_

_My father has cancer and only three months to live. I've decided to go back to America for those three months, and I really regret leaving before I could see you again. Jones called to tell me that you were safe and coming home, and I really wish I could be there for you._

_The matter of who you'll be living with is all taken care of. You won't have to move or anything, as he'll be staying with you. You know him, and you'll be able to talk to him about everything. _

_Remember that I love you and you can call if you need anything._

_I'll be back in a couple months. There's no way I'll be able to be away from you for so long. You're practically my son._

_Stay safe and try to get better, Alex, because even if you can't see it, I can. You're dying, slowly, and I don't want to come back from one funeral just to attend another. _

_I love you._

_Jack_

Alex set the letter aside, not exactly sure what to think. His ribs hurt, as he had cracked a few during an escape, and the side of his face throbbed from the dark bruise that practically covered it. The fact that someone was coming to live with him bothered him somewhat, but Jack had said that he knew who it was.

He would miss Jack. He couldn't deny that she did try, despite not knowing how to help him. Frankly, Alex didn't even know how to help himself. If anything, though, he didn't really care anymore. There was only so much he could handle at any given time, and right now he was dealing with just a little too much.

Which is probably why he found himself in the bathroom, razor blade in hand, watching as blood welled from the shallow cut on his wrist. He never cut too deeply, although he had considered doing so often enough. But then Jack would be left alone and he didn't want that.

But Jack wasn't here now.

The blade cut deeper into flesh and blood flowed more willingly. Alex seemed entranced by the liquid, not even bothering to look up when he heard someone at the bathroom door.

Ben sighed, running a hand through his hair. He had come in the front door and stumbled over Alex's bag, which had let him know the boy was home. Stepping forward, he reached out and gently took the blade from Alex's hand, frowning when the agent didn't even seem to notice.

Gentle movements had Alex's wrist bound and the boy out of the bathroom. Ben led him down the stairs and onto the couch, where Alex's brown eyes stared at nothing.

**Never finished and I've been sitting on it forever. The rest of K-Unit move in with Alex and Ben. Snake's having some issues after a mission. It ends with Jack coming back to find them all playing football in the park, although Ben and Alex tackle Wolf and they're all laughing and having fun. And MI6 is taken care of somehow...**


	25. Twilight and Harry Potter

**Brothers and Sons**

**A Harry Potter Twilight crossover. Harry is deaged and sent to live with the Cullens. He and Jasper become very close.**

Jasper eyed the deer, his eyes dark with hunger. The rest of the Cullen family had gone to visit the Denali Clan in Alaska, but the Texan hadn't felt like going. They had taken Bella with them and while Jasper liked her well enough, he didn't want to put up with lovey-dovey emotions all weekend.

He pounced, snapping the deer's neck and sinking his teeth into its flesh. Warm, coppery blood slid down his throat and he reveled in the taste. It wasn't nearly as good as human, but Jasper had found himself less attracted to human blood since the incident on Bella's birthday.

There was a rustling nearby and Jasper's head shot up, nearly gold eyes scanning the underbrush. They met the eyes of a small child that the vampire could swear wasn't there before. Absently wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Jasper frowned at the emotions he was picking up. Despite the fact that the child had seen him kill and feed, he didn't feel any fear from him. Instead there was resignation, exhaustion and…pain?

Jasper took a small step forward, and the child made no move. He sent out some calming waves and was surprised when the boy seemed to know they came from him. "Are you lost?" he asked softly, studying the small form. The child could be no more than five years of age, with shaggy black hair and piercing eyes of an unnatural emerald color. He was terribly thin and the incredibly ragged clothes did nothing to hide the scars. And there were many of those; whip marks across his back if he wasn't mistaken. Burns on his arms and hands. Words, "I must not tell lies" carved into the back of one tiny hand—and that sparked even more anger from the usually calm vampire.

Children should not be treated in such ways.

Jasper reached a hand out, holding it palm up to the boy. "I'm not going to hurt you," he murmured. The boy regarded his hand suspiciously, not that Jasper blamed him. But finally, after about five minutes, the child placed his small, scarred hand in Jasper's, not seeming to notice the cold of his skin.

Jasper, taking care to do so slowly, gathered the small, silent being into his arms, absently wondering if the child was ever going to speak. If not, then he would have to call Edward. Moving through the trees at a decent pace, he made it back to the Cullen home within ten minutes. The child hadn't moved from where he was resting his head on Jasper's shoulder, emerald eyes warily scanning the surroundings.

"Are you going to speak, little emerald?" Jasper asked. When the child said nothing, the vampire gave a sigh and walked to the bathroom. The boy was filthy and the clothing—if it could be called such—was atrocious. Carefully stripping the child out of his clothing, taking pains not to startle the little being, he placed him into a tub of warm water.

The child made no move as Jasper gently and carefully washed his small, scarred body, keeping his emerald eyes trained on the water. Jasper worked with a tenderness that completely belied his vampire strength. He had noticed right from the beginning that this little boy did not smell like food. But Jasper had no idea why.

When the boy was dry and clothed in an overlarge shirt of Alice's, as hers were the smallest, Jasper placed him on the couch and wrapped him in a blanket before heading for the kitchen. He was pretty sure they had some leftover chicken soup from when Bella had caught a cold earlier that week. He didn't want to feed the child anything too heavy, knowing from the boy's appearance that he was severely malnourished.

He found the soup in the fridge and poured some into a mug to heat in the microwave. As it was heating, he pulled out his cell phone. He had a call to make.

Edward was in the middle of a friendly argument with Emmett when his phone rang. He paused in what he was doing, pulling the device from his pocket and answering it.

"Hey Edward," Jasper's voice said. The room had gone silent, evident that everyone was listening in on the conversation. "I hate to ask you this, but could you come home early? I need your help with something."

Edward frowned, wondering why Jasper would need his help instead of Carlisle's. Unless, of course, Jasper needed someone's mind read. "Is everything okay?" he asked, glancing at Alice, who was standing still, caught in a vision.

"Everything's fine," Jasper said. "I would just appreciate it if you came back now."

"Okay," Edward conceded, his curiosity getting the better of him. "I'll be back in a couple hours." Jasper thanked him and hung up, and Edward placed the phone back in his pocket, turning to the others. "I'll see you later."

"We'll head back tomorrow," Carlisle said with a small frown, obviously wondering what was going on.

Edward gave a nod, pressing a kiss to Bella's forehead and then making his way to the front door. Alice grabbed his arm before he could leave, however, thinking for his benefit, _'Explain to him about your gift before you read his mind. He won't take it well otherwise.'_ Edward gave a small frown, eyeing her, and then he nodded, running out the door.

He made it to Forks in record time, entering the house and calling for Jasper. He found his brother sitting in the living room, cajoling a small child to drink some warm soup from a mug. "Jasper?" he asked.

_'I found him in the woods. He's not talking.'_ Jasper thought, glancing at Edward.

Edward nodded, looking at the boy again and was struck speechless by the bright emeralds that were staring at him. Edward remembered Alice's words and went to sit in front of the child "Hello. I'm Edward, Jasper's brother I'd like you to know that I can read minds, which is why Jazz asked me to come back, since you're not in a talkative mood right now." He paused as the boy's eyes became guarded. "I can't really control my gift, so I'd like to apologize in advance for anything I may do that offends you. But we would like to know who you are. Will you let me see?"

There was a long pause and then the child nodded.

It took nearly all night to get through the memories. They often had to stop to let Jasper calm the boy down when the memories became too much for him to handle. By the time they got to the point where Jasper had found the child, the sun was up and the rest of the Cullens were driving up the lane. Edward reached out and gently ran a hand though the boy's hair. "Why don't you get some sleep, Hadrian," he said softly. "I'll explain to the others."

To their surprise, Hadrian turned and clambered onto Jasper's lap, curling up and falling asleep almost immediately. Jasper gave a small smile, holding him close and then looked up at Edward expectantly.

"I'll tell you with the others," the taller vampire murmured, eyeing the child. If he hadn't seen the memories himself, he'd have a hard time believing the boy's story.

The two vampires heard the rest of the family, plus Bella, exit the vehicles and start towards the house. Alice cautioned them to be quiet, as the little one was sleeping, and the others confusion was almost strong enough to taste.

When they entered the room and saw Hadrian curled up asleep in Jasper's lap, they all looked to the two vampires for an explanation. Carlisle took a step forward, asking, "Who is this?"

Jasper gave a small shrug and Edward gave a needless sigh. "You might want to sit down," the mind-reader said gently, glancing at the group of confused vampires. Esme looked like she was physically restraining herself from running up and cuddling the child, and Rosalie was a close second.

When the large group was finally seated around the room, Edward started speaking. "Jasper found him in the woods while hunting and brought him back, align me in when he wouldn't speak. His name is Hadrian 'Harry' James Potter and he's a wizard." He held up a hand to stave off any exclamations. Wizards were known for hunting down vampires and werewolves, which is why many fled to the Americas, were the wizards didn't tend to go due to a strange magical fluctuation.

He took a deep, unneeded breath to continue with the hard part of the explanation. He began telling about Voldemort and the death of Hadrian's parents. The neglect and abuse he suffered as a child with the Dursleys. The wizarding world's blatant disrespect and how they shaped him into a weapon—a tool to use and discard at will. The war and the massive losses Hadrian suffered before finally winning, only to have lost everything and everyone he cared about.

"In reality, Hadrian is eighteen, but his mind couldn't handle the world, so it fractured. His body changed to suit his mind, and Fate decided to send him somewhere he could find peace. He remembers everything, but it's mixed up, and somewhat blunted. And he belongs here, with us."

* * *

**About a week later:**

As soon as he stepped into the office, a sobbing boy collided with his legs. Jasper glanced at Esme and the secretary, both of which looking concerned, and then carefully knelt, taking Hadrian into his arms and holding him gently. "What's wrong, love?" he murmured softly, rubbing the child's shaking back.

"He had a nightmare," Esme said quietly, wringing her hands together. "I could hardly get him here, he was panicking so much. He wouldn't let me touch him." The near desperation in her voice told of how helpless she felt at that moment.

"Hadrian darlin'," Jasper soothed, his voice dropping into his old Texan drawl. "It's alright, darlin'. I'm here now." He pressed his lips to the child's temple, rocking him gently as he sent out calming waves. It took a while, but Hadrian finally calmed, hiccupping slightly as Jasper gathered him up in his arms and stood. "That's my boy," he said softly. "Would you like to go back home with Esme, or stay here with me?"

Hadrian's hands tightened on Jasper's shirt, and he buried his face in the vampire's neck. Jasper gave a soft chuckle, turning to the secretary and asking for a visitor's pass. Gaining one, he leaned over and kissed Esme's cheek. "He'll be fine with me," he said. "We'll see you at home after school."

"Be safe," Esme said sternly, kissing both boys' heads. Hadrian flinched slightly, but Jasper was quick to calm him. With a glance at the secretary, he left the office, his charge held comfortably in his arms.

Right before entering the cafeteria, Jasper stopped and adjusted his hold on the small boy. "There's a lot of people in there, sweetie," Jasper warned, tilting Hadrian's chin up to catch brilliant emerald eyes with his own warm amber. "And a lot of them are going to be curious about you. Can you handle that?"

Hadrian laid his head against Jasper's shoulder, his grasp on the blonde's shirt never loosening. Jasper tapped Hadrian's emotions, giving a small, proud smile at the feelings of contentment/fear/safety. "My brave little boy," he whispered, entering the cafeteria and heading for his family's table. His entrance had not gone unnoticed, and the room slowly fell silent before the whispers started. He rolled his eyes and sat down in the chair Alice had saved for him, leaning over to give his wife a kiss.

"Everything alright?" Bella asked, eyeing Hadrian in concern. He wasn't wearing a jacket, and it was beginning to get chilly outside.

"It will be," Jasper answered, taking the jacket Edward had shrugged out of and wrapping it around Hadrian. The boy scowled for a moment, as the clothing was much too large, but he had to admit that it was a lot warmer.

Edward gave a huff. "Geez, he doesn't even look like you, Jazz, and everyone's saying he's your love-child."

Emmett laughed, snagging a cookie from Rosalie's tray and handing it to Hadrian. Emerald eyes regarded him warily for a long moment before he reached out and took the cookie in one tiny hand, nibbling on it. They weren't offended by Hadrian's paranoia, as Jasper was the only one that the boy even remotely trusted, with Carlisle and Edward as close seconds.

Jasper ran a hand down Hadrian's back, causing the boy to blink large emeralds up at him. The blond vampire smiled down at his charge, handing him some carrot sticks to offset the cookie. Hadrian gave a tremulous smile back, happily munching on the vegetables; he rather liked carrots.

The other vampires were all listening to the humans talk about the child, letting Bella in on the whispers. The suggestions on Hadrian's origins were getting more and more outrageous as time passed, and they couldn't help but laugh.

Alice surprised them all at the end of lunch, when she pulled out a pack of crayons and handed them to Jasper. At their questions she shrugged, reiterating that her sight was wonky around Hadrian, but that she had felt the need for crayons.

* * *

**That night:**

You're rather close to Hadrian, Jazzy," Alice murmured as they lounged in their large bed. Jasper touched her emotions, wondering about that comment, but found she was both amused and awed, as opposed to jealous.

"Hadrian," Jasper muttered. "There's just something about him that screams out for me to protect him, to comfort him."

"His emotions?" Alice asked, curious.

"No," Jasper shook his head. "They're certainly part of it, but that's not all… I can't explain it." Alice gave a small smile, about to say something but before she could, Jasper slipped out of the bed. "Hold on," he murmured, as the turmoil of emotions from Hadrian's room took a rather negative turn.

He entered Hadrian's room to find the tiny child sitting on the bed, sobbing silently. The sheets were twisted at the end of the bed, showing evidence of a violent nightmare. Hadrian's head shot up at Jasper's entrance, and he cowered, hunching into himself, his emerald eyes filling with new tears.

"Hadrian, darlin'," Jasper whispered comfortingly. "It's alright, baby. It was only a nightmare. It can't hurt you now."

* * *

**Much later... Jasper and Harry had been playing in the woods (he still doesn't speak but is a little more open) when they're attacked by rogue wolves that aren't part of La Push. They end up trespassing into the La Push territory, and Jasper is gravely injured. Harry turns back into a teen in order to help fight off the wolves. The La Push pack shows up, as do Emmett and Edward (the rest of the Cullens are in Paris or somewhere not Forks) and fight off the rest of the rogues. This is the aftermath...**

Emmett was giving a deep, rumbling purr, trying to calm Hadrian. Edward echoed the purr for both his own comfort, and for Jasper's. The blond's injuries were horrific, and were obviously causing great pain. Without feeding on something soon, there was a chance that Jasper could die.

Ripping his sleeve off and pressing it to Jasper's shredded throat, Edward turned to where Jacob was watching with members of his pack. "I need a deer, elk, bear, something! And I need it now!" The large wolf gave a nod and it and two others ran off. He turned back to his brother, when Jasper gave a low, keening animalistic cry, convulsing in pain. Emmett struggled for a moment, trying to keep a hold of Hadrian and not hurt him, as the teen reacted to the cry.

"Jazz, Jasper," Edward murmured, pressing his hand against his brother's torn chest. "Calm down. Relax. You'll be okay." He didn't know, though, if he could trust his own words; he'd never dealt with a vampire this injured before. He hadn't learned a lot of natural vampire behavior, and therefore didn't know the best way to calm his brother.

There was a crashing behind him, and Edward turned to see Jacob and the other two wolves pulling a freshly killed buck over to his side. A quick glance at Jasper had Edward realizing that the blond wouldn't be able to feed himself. Not bothering to second-guess himself, Edward allowed instinct to take over. He leaned over the neck of the buck, pulling it closer and took in a large mouthful of fresh, warm blood.

He carefully pried Jasper's mouth open, working around the clenched jaw, and covered it with his own, transferring the blood. Jasper gagged slightly and then swallowed, giving a soft mewl of pain. Edward continued this transfer of blood via vampiric mouth-to-mouth until Jasper weakly pushed him away with his good arm. "You sure?" Edward whispered.

Jasper blinked up at him tiredly, obviously still in pain from injuries that just weren't healing. He didn't say anything, but Edward caught his static thoughts, and glanced over at Emmett, who was gently rocking a sleeping teen. "Hadrian is fine. He's with Emmett. We need to get you home."

Jacob, having shifted and thrown on some shorts, stepped forward. "Some of the rogues got away," he said, eying the four trespassers. "Let's just throw away the original treaty for now and work together. Allow myself and Seth to keep watch at your house."

"Granted," Edward murmured, distracted by his task of carefully gathering Jasper into his arms. Jasper gave a soft cry, a purely animalistic sound, his eyes glassing over. He was as close to unconsciousness as it was possible for a vampire to get, lying limply against Edward's chest. Edward started with the quiet purring again, exuding a sense of calm peacefulness in an attempt to sooth Jasper.

With a single look at Emmett, the two vampires skirted around the wolves and quickly ran back to their house, being extremely careful with their charges. Depositing Hadrian on the couch, they then laid Jasper on the kitchen table and began caring for his wounds.

* * *

**Harry's still a teen and doesn't want to be. He and Jasper are alone at the house.**

Hadrian looked over at him, emerald eyes bright with unshed tears. "I don't want to be me," he whispered. "I don't want this responsibility. I'm so tired…when I was little, I was happy. For the first time, I felt free."

Jasper studied him for a long moment, before opening his arms for a hug. Hadrian fell against him immediately, burying his face against the vampire's neck and frowning at the bandages that still adorned it. A sense of safety wrapped around him and Jasper whispered into his hair, "You can be whoever you wish to be. I will always love you."

"Even if I decide to grow up all over again?" Hadrian asked with a stifled sob.

Jasper nodded. "Even then."

Hadrian pulled back, looking u at Jasper, emerald eyes searching. And then he gave a tremulous smile. "I will never age past eighteen. It was a blood ritual that the Ministry forced upon me, and it went wrong somehow." Jasper couldn't help but feel relief at that. He hadn't wanted to eventually watch Hadrian die, or have to turn him.

Hadrian felt that relief and his smile grew a little. Jasper actually wanted him, just because he was himself. Not a powerful wizard, or a famous celebrity but because he was Hadrian. He waved his hand, knowing there was some other business to take care of before the others got home. Folder appeared and Hadrian opened it, grabbing a pen and scrawling his signature on one of the pages.

Handing the file to Jasper, he curled up again, watching silently as the vampire perused the contents. He had just handed over control of his vast estate to his guardian, Jasper Whitlock Cullen-Hale. Jasper eyed him for a moment, knowing better then to contest that decision, and set the file aside. "Esme's going to have a blast decoratin' all your houses, love, " he murmured instead.

* * *

**Near the end of the fic. Harry's a happy five-year-old kid adopted by Jasper.**

Jasper sighed, wondering how Alice had talked him into going shopping with Bella and her friends. Edward caught the thought and gave a little shrug, his annoyance making it known that he was thinking the same thing. Bella was chattering along with Alice, Jessica and Angela about inane topics that only girls would understand, and Jasper's thoughts began to wander.

Esme had taken Hadrian to the park today, deciding that the boy needed to get out of the house for a while. Hadrian had been rather reluctant at first, but at the promise of ice-cream he had given in. the boy was a sucker for ice-cream. Ahead of him, Alice gave a little giggle, and Edward smirked.

"Daddy! Daddy!" a familiar little voice called, and jasper belatedly realized that they were walking by the park. He turned and caught the boy that practically flew at him, spinning him around. "Hi Daddy," Hadrian giggled.

"Hello darlin'," Jasper murmured, pressing a kiss to Hadrian's temple. "Are you havin' fun?"

"Yup!" Hadrian beamed up at him, causing all the girls to give 'aws' of delight. "I saw a buttyfwy!"

"Did you?" Jasper asked with a small smile.

"Yup! It wanded on my nose!" Hadrian said, going cross-eyed as he pointed at his nose in demonstration. Again with the 'aws', although this time Edward smiled, shaking his head. "Meme drawed it," Hadrian informed them, and Jasper looked over to where Esme was smiling at them from a nearby bench, sketchpad on her lap.

"Hi Eddie!" Hadrian crowed, wrapping his arms around Edward's legs. Edward smiled and ruffled his hair, gaining a giggle. "Hi Awi! Hi Bewwa!"

"Don't we get hugs too?" Alice pouted.

"No."

Jasper raised an eyebrow. "Why not?"

Hadrian gave him an adorably exasperated look. "Cooties."

"Of course," Jasper murmured, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. "How could I forget?"

"Siwwy Daddy!" Hadrian said, laughing happily.

"We need to finish our shopping, love," Jasper said. "Why don't you continue playing?"

Hadrian gave a happy nod and tilted his head up. "Kisses." Jasper bent and gave Hadrian a kiss and the little boy ran off to the playground again. The group of teens watched him go, the vampires giving small smiles, while Jessica and Angela's smiles had turned to confusion.

"How'd you become his father? Aren't you a little young?" Jessica asked, obviously wanting more fuel for her gossip.

Jasper gave her an almost dismissive look, but Bella answered for him anyway. "Carlisle and Esme decided to foster Hadrian, but Jasper was the only one that could get near him for a long time. He was so scared. So, in the end, Jasper became his father instead of Carlisle. The adoption's already gone through."

**Never finished. Been sitting on it for a few years. Had planned to end it with a cute scene where Hermione and Ron show up, and it involves cootie shots and hugs and greatness. May never actually finish this one...**


	26. Supernatural Harry Potter

**Supernatural Xover with Harry Potter:**

Sam Winchester was beyond confused when he opened the door to his and Jess's apartment, and found himself staring at a young man with shaggy black hair and brilliant emerald eyes. "Can I help you?" he asked, eyeing the kid and noticing subtle clues that spoke of neglect, and quite possibly, abuse.

"Are you Sam Winchester?" the teen asked, glancing up at him through a messing fringe of hair. His voice was raspy and somewhat unsteady, and it made Sam frown. He knew what screaming did to one's voice.

"Yes," Sam answered slowly. "May I ask who you are?"

"Um…" the teen glanced over his shoulder, as though checking for followers, and then sighed slightly. "My name is Hadrian Potter. My mother was your father's half-sister, which means you're my cousin."

Sam's frown deepened. "My father didn't have any siblings."

"Mum was adopted," Hadrian muttered, shifting slightly from foot to foot. He shrugged lightly, straightening the strap on his tattered bag, that was nearly in as bad a condition as his clothing. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have bothered you. I was looking for Uncle John, but…" He shrugged again, turning away. "I'll go now."

"No, wait," Sam called, grabbing Hadrian's shoulder and pulling back when the boy flinched violently. "Why don't you come in?"

* * *

**By the time this point comes around, they've read Harry's journal which tells them everything about his life. He's not exactly sane, switching between moods and mental ages quite frequently. He had a daughter with a seventh year girl when he was sixteen (oops) who was kidnapped by Death Eaters and killed, leading him to kill Voldemort. (His friends don't know where he is right now, as he ran away.) He saved Jess from the demon, nearly getting killed in the process, and Jess lives under great protection with Bobby. She and Sam got married and have a daughter now. Sam still goes with Dean on hunts and are looking for their father.**

Harry cradled the tiny being, staring down at the scrunched, red face. A tear slid down his cheek as he remembered his own daughter the same way. "She's beautiful," he whispered. "She's beautiful." He handed her back to Sam and left the room without another word.

Jess blinked in confusion, looking up at Sam and Dean as her husband handed their newborn daughter to her uncle. "Harry's daughter was kidnapped and killed a few weeks before he met up with us," Sam explained softly, kissing the top of Jess's head at her gasp. He turned and gave Dean a warning look. "Drop her and die," he warned before heading out after Harry.

He didn't have to look long, as Harry was standing at the window at the end of the hall. "I'm sorry," the teen murmured, not looking at Sam. "This is a happy day for all of you, and I'm ruining it. I can leave-" he broke off when Sam enveloped him in a hug.

"If it weren't for you, Jess and my daughter wouldn't be here," he whispered. "We don't blame you for mourning."

* * *

**They find John, who doesn't like Harry. Harry is obviously not fully human (he's merged with his animagus form, a panther of some sort). **

"He's insane, sometimes out rightly cruel, and occasionally violent," Sam explained softly, not taking his eyes off his father, who was frowning darkly. Dean continued to stroke Harry's back, keeping an eye on the boy while Sam tired to explain. "But he's also completely innocent, childlike at times, over-protective, and more often than not, really sweet."

"And more than that," Dean spoke up. "He's family."

"He's not human," John snapped, waving a hand at the purring teen. "We hunt things like hi. Or did you forget that?"

Dean snorted, running a hand through Harry's silky hair. "You don't get it. He's the Untouchable."

"The DarkSlayer," Sam said with an ironic smile. John opened his mouth to yell at his children again, but Sam's look caused him to pause. "Evil can't touch him. Demons actively shy away from him. Harry is the epitome of 'pure', and keenly seeks to destroy the Dark."

* * *

**Some time later. Jess still lives with Bobby, and they're still hunting the Yellow Eyed Demon. Harry tends to go with them.**

"Hey kitten," Dean chuckled as Harry launched himself at them, latching his arms around Dean's neck and his legs around his cousin's waist, clinging to the man like a limpet. "Miss us?"

"Mmhmm," Harry hummed, burying his face in the crook of Dean's neck. "You were gone a long time."

Sam laughed, ruffling Harry's hair as he passed. "You knew we would be. We had to take care of that haunting. "

Harry shot him a half-hearted glare over Dean's shoulder. "I could have gone with you."

"You were sick, pet," Dean replied, carrying his small cousin into the house. He gave Bobby a grin, knowing the man trusted Harry to know whether or not they were truly themselves. No more Holy Water shots.

"So?" Harry pouted, climbing down and blinking at the sight of one of Bobby's books.

"We were already worried about you, Harry," Sam said softly. "How are you feeling, by the way?"

"I'm fine," Harry answered, his attention on the book as he flipped through it. Dean and Sam exchanged looks and then glanced at Bobby.

The older man rolled his eyes. "The munchkin's fever broke last night. Jess and I haven't been able to keep him in bed since." He glanced at Sam. "Speaking of your wife, she's at the store and will be back soon."

Sam grinned. "Good."

**Never finished. Although I had plans to make it so that Sam never died. (As much as I love Cas, I hate the fourth season on...)**


	27. Harry Potter Gundam Wing

**A Little Trip Through Time and Space**

**Disclaimer: So, yeah. I totally don't own Gundam Wing or Harry Potter. If I did, I'd be rich and I wouldn't really be fretting over school loans. **

**Yes, I'm back with another one. This one I have planned all the way to the end, though. So I can guarantee that it won't have a pathetic end like the others have. Maybe. I am a busy person after all. Now, this one is non-slash. Finally. There are no pairings in this fic. You'll see why. You may recognize parts of the first chapter from other GW fics I've written. That's because I'm lazy and am getting tired of writing about how the boys have changed over the course of time. **

Prologue

The wars were over, and all was peaceful in the world. Unless, of course, you were a Preventer. Trowa gave a small sigh, shaking his head before giving a small wince. He'd woken up with a killer headache this morning. He looked down at the paperwork in his hand, and then forced himself to his feet. He needed to find Quatre, so that the two of them could look this over together.

It'd been six months since the end of the war. As for the pilots, all five of them had joined Preventers, and while they hadn't changed much, they'd all grown up a little. At just over sixteen (or so it was speculated with Heero, Duo and Trowa), they weren't yet adults, but they had lost some of the childishness to their features that had been present during the wars. They were all still extremely fit, a precaution just in case they needed to pull their Gundams from their secret storage. Une and a couple of the other top agents knew that the boys hadn't actually destroyed them, as the last set of wars taught the Preventers that you could never be too prepared.

Trowa was still the tallest, having shot up to a height of six foot three. He still practiced his acrobatics, and as such had kept that figure. Quatre was the second tallest of the group at five foot eleven, and had lost the baby-face he had managed to keep during the war. Instead he now stood as an aristocratic CEO, and an even better agent.

Heero hadn't grown much, due to genetic manipulation, but he had also lost the childish look to his features. In his place was a young man with chiseled features and a glare that could make even the most hardened criminal wet himself. He only stood at five foot six, but that was okay with him. In his mind, he was short and that was that. He didn't have a problem with it. Wufei, had grown to be five foot eight, making him the third tallest in their small group. He'd allowed his hair to grow to mid-back and usually kept in tied back in a lose ponytail as opposed to the tight one from the wars.

Duo, however, had changed the least. His time on the streets had left his size at a small five foot two. He was still too thin despite the amount he ate, and had a tendency to be somewhat flighty. It had taken a while for the other pilots to curb his fears about losing everything he loved, but being around the same people for so long, people he considered to be his brothers, was helping with that. He was still his energetic happy self for the majority of the time, however, and could often be found pranking someone in the office while convincing Quatre to finish his paperwork for him.

Trowa winced again, pausing in the hall to rub at his temple. His headache was only getting worse, despite the painkillers he had taken. Granted, most drugs didn't work on the pilots, due to the genetic manipulation they had all gone through, but it should have at least dulled the pain a little.

He couldn't help but give a small groan when the pain spiked and he had to brace himself against the wall. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Wufei heading down the hall towards him, but he ignored the Chinese pilot, instead focusing on the fact that his head felt like it was about to implode.

Wufei frowned when he saw Trowa stumble and brace himself against the wall, one hand pressed against his head. He couldn't ever recall Trowa being in that much pain without being injured, so it was worrying. "Barton? You okay?"

He moved forward when the file of papers fell from Trowa's hand, scattering across the tile floor. The tall pilot gave a strangled sound, falling to his knees and curling into himself, arms cradling his head. And then he slipped sideways, sliding into the blessed relief of unconsciousness. Wufei was there to catch him, cradling his friend, his brother in all but blood, in complete concern.

He slid his walkie-talkie from his belt, gently laying Trowa on the ground. "We need a medical team to the third floor B hall. We have an agent down," he relayed into the device, brow furrowed. There was a static-y reply, but Wufei ignored it, instead focusing on Trowa, running his hand through his comrade's brown hair.

Trowa wasn't running a fever; he was showing no signs of injury. And while Quatre was prone to occasional migraines, an inherited ailment that all the pilots knew the blond suffered from, Trowa wasn't. So what had caused him to feel so much pain that he had passed out from it?

In the front lobby of the Preventers building, Heero was watching his partner with a little concern. Duo had gotten up that morning complaining of a slight headache and it had only steadily gotten worse. He was contemplating taking the smaller agent home for the day, but Duo was adamant that he would be fine.

That is, until his headache became exponentially worse and he suddenly had to grab hold of his partner to keep from falling. "Duo?" Heero murmured, turning slightly to take hold of the braided American's arms as Duo bent nearly double with a hiss of pain.

When Duo's eyes rolled up in his head and he collapsed completely into Heero's arms, the Japanese youth swore violently. Immediately the secretary, who had been watching in concern, called for a medical team. Only to receive the reply that another agent had also collapsed. Another high-level agent.

This wasn't good on any level.

Chapter One

This was beyond disconcerting.

Duo Maxwell huffed a sigh and turned back to the bed that he was laying on. Yes, laying on. While at the same time standing at the end of it, staring at himself. No one else in the room seemed to be able to see him, and that led Duo to believe that something was terribly wrong.

His body was in a coma.

So was Trowa, from what he had overheard.

So that meant that Duo was officially having an out-of-body experience.

Weird.

Someone swore behind him, and Duo turned to look at Trowa. And then he frowned and glanced over at Trowa's bed. Yup, the taller pilot was still there, hooked up to the machines and looking rather peaceful in his deeply unconscious state. So that meant that Trowa was in the same situation he was in.

Well, at least he knew he wasn't dreaming. Maybe.

"Hey Tro-tro," he murmured with a wry smile. "Any idea what's goin' on?"

"None whatsoever," Trowa replied softly, glancing around the room. Wufei, Heero and Quatre were all discussing something quietly in the corner, shooting concerned glances at the two bedridden pilots. "I had a really bad headache and awoke to find myself here. And over there."

Duo sighed. "Same."

"It's because I need your help."

The two pilots spun around at the sound of the unfamiliar voice, both wondering how in the world anyone could have snuck up on them. They were met with the sight of a bemused looking woman, who overall was just rather ordinary. Brown hair, brown eyes, average height; there was nothing spectacular about her.

"My name is not important," the lady said gently, smiling slightly at the perturbed looks she was getting from the braided pilot. Trowa just looked as blank as ever. "But you would know me as Lady Fate."

"Really…" Yeah, Duo wasn't exactly about to believe that.

She laughed a little. "Yes, Death's Favored," she replied, laughing even more at the sight of Duo's shock. He called himself Shinigami, but he'd never thought that Death would actually approve. "I need your help. The help of Death's Favored and War's Gambit."

"With?" Trowa murmured, glancing back at their bodies.

"There's a boy, in a different plane of existence," Lady Fate explained. "He's got a large destiny, and at this rate he's going to fail at it. He needs help, and the two of you are just the people to help him."

Trowa and Duo glanced at each other. "But our friends…our family," Duo said, motioning to the other three pilots, seated at their bedsides.

"No worries," Lady Fate smiled. "For every year that you spend in this other world, only one day will pass here. And you'll be able to check on your friends. I am not cruel enough to take you away from them permanently."

"This boy?" Trowa asked, sharing another look with Duo. They would at least hear her out, since they wouldn't be separated from their friends and family for forever if they did decide to help.

"His name is Harry James Potter and he's a wizard that's supposed to defeat an evil wizard later on in life," Lady Fate said patiently. She knew their reservations and didn't blame them at all, but they would help her when they heard more about little Harry.

"A wizard?"

Lady Fate smiled; the boys harmonized quite well when they were in shock. "Yes. In Harry's world magic exists to a small percentage of the world. They have their own society, hidden away from the 'muggles', or non-magical people. Harry was targeted by a sociopathic mass-murderer who wanted to kill him due to a prophecy that said that Harry would later defeat him. Voldemort, the mass-murderer, killed Harry's parents when the boy was just over a year, but failed to kill Harry. The killing curse—an unstoppable bit of magic—rebounded of Harry somehow and instead hit Voldemort. The man, though, is not fully dead and will be coming back. Harry needs help in order to finally defeat him."

"We don't know anything about magic, Lady," Duo pointed out. "And if our bodies are here, how the crap are we supposed to help him? We'd be, like, ghosts or something."

"Harry doesn't need magical help," Lady Fate explained. "Not really. What he needs are some friends. Guardian angels if you will. And you'd have bodies there. Only…you'd be cats. It's the most I'd be able to do. I'm kind of breaking the rules already."

Duo and Trowa conversed quietly for a moment and then turned back to Lady Fate. "So…how old is this kid? Where's he at?"

"He's currently living with his aunt, uncle and cousin," she answered with a grimace. "They're not…the greatest family. Horrible, actually. And Harry's only six right now."

"Oh," Duo blinked. "He's just a baby."

"He needs you," Lady Fate practically whispered. "Harry's one of the few people in the world that can see an animal's soul. He'll know that you're not really cats. He'll see you. Everyone else will see the cat."

There was a long pause, both boys turning to gaze at their friends (and themselves). "We'll go," Trowa murmured. Duo nodded, and Lady Fate gave a sigh of relief.

"Thank you."

And the world faded out around them.

Chapter Two

"This is so weird," Duo mumbled to himself as he tried to figure out just how his legs worked. Trowa, it seemed, was having no problems at all with this whole being-a-cat spiel. Maybe it was because of how close the clown was with felines that he just instinctively knew how they worked. Duo didn't have that option, though, and was instead stumbling around as he tried to get his strangely jointed legs to work.

Trowa snickered, shaking his head, his tail twitching in amusement. He was a brown tabby cat, rather large too. There could, possibly, be some bobcat in his blood as he was easily over twenty pounds and not an ounce of it fat. Duo, though, was a tiny little darkly-colored Singapura. He wouldn't get to be any larger than eight pounds and could easily be carried around by Tabby-Trowa. Trowa shook his head again when Duo leveled an amethyst glare his way. "We should find Harry."

"He should be next door," Duo replied with a huff as Trowa leapt off the wall and landed lightly next to him. "I hate you."

"No, you really don't," Trowa replied lightly. He nudged his brother gently and started walking to the next house over. His sensitive ears picked up the muffled sound of crying and he picked up the pace, Duo practically bounding on ahead.

There, in the back garden, was the huddled form of a tiny little child. The boy had messy black hair, and emerald eyes that matched Trowa's own. He was crying though, and a large bruise marred the side of his face. Duo took a cautious step forward, mewing softly at the sniffling child. "Oh Harry," the small cat murmured, knowing right off who this child was.

Harry looked up, blinking at the two cats, Trowa still a little ways away. "Hello kitty," he whispered to Duo, holding out a small hand. Duo stepped forward, playing the innocent kitten, and rubbed his head up against Harry's hand, giving a small purr. Man, that felt good.

Trowa stepped forward then and Harry gave a hesitant smile. "Hi big kitty. You his friend?" The tabby gave a nod and Harry frowned lightly, looking from Duo to Trowa. Cats didn't nod. "You're not normal kitties are you?"

Duo shook his head and Harry's frown deepened. And then he seemed to look straight through them. "Oh."

"Hello Harry," Trowa smiled, knowing that Harry was seeing the projection of their human forms over the cat-bodies. And knowing that they weren't really cats let him hear what they had to say.

"Who are you?" Harry asked, pulling back and curling into himself again. Duo recognized the look; Harry was afraid of getting hit.

"Duo and Trowa," he answered, holding back a scowl and instead giving a small smile for the frightened child. "We're your guardian angels."

Harry blinked, sniffling a little. "Angels don't like bad boys."

Trowa tilted his head to one side. "But you're not a bad boy, Harry."

Harry frowned. "But Uncle Vernon says—"

"Forget what that fat lump says," Duo interjected with a scowl. "He's not an angel, is he?"

"But you're kitties," Harry pointed out. Angels were supposed to be all glow-y and have wings. He'd seen the pictures that were painted on the windows in the church. Pastor Ryan let him hide there sometimes, and gave him food. He was the only one that was nice here.

Duo grinned, and Trowa smiled lightly. "Of course we are!" the American chirped. It was rather odd. He felt like a cat, and knew Trowa did too. He even saw himself and Trowa as cats. But he could also see Trowa as a ghostly looking person, and he could see himself too. It must be what Harry was seeing. But it was odd, all the same. "It would be weird if people with wings were walking around, wouldn't it?"

Harry thought about it for a moment and then giggled. "But why are you here with me?" he asked softly. "I'm not special. I can't do anything. I don't even know how to read."

"That's why we're here," Trowa said. "We're here because you _are_ special, and you need someone to help you see that."

"Don't worry Harry," Duo said happily. "We're here to be your friends!"

Harry blinked at them, and then grinned. "I've never had a friend before!"

They had already decided not to tell Harry about his wizardry until he was a little older. Instead, they would focus on things such as reading, writing, arithmetic, science, acrobatics and self defense. Of course, there was only so much they could do as cats, but they would do their best.

Harry was scared that they would leave him, at first, since he obviously couldn't let them inside, but they quelled those fears soon enough. Besides, these days Harry was locked outside more often than not anyway.

Two days later saw the six year old walking down the street, a small nearly-black cat perched on his shoulders, and another much larger one walking sedately next to him. They were headed for the library, although Harry couldn't for the life of him figure out why. He couldn't read, and he had always been told that he was too stupid to learn. But Duo and Trowa were convinced that with a little practice, he would be able to do anything he wanted.

"Will they let me in?" Harry whispered, feeling quite nervous about going to the large building. He'd never been anywhere but the Dursley's and Mrs. Figg's place, since his relatives didn't like people knowing he existed.

"Of course they will," Duo said soothingly, although he was wearing a rather large grin. Harry had realized quite quickly that Duo was the talker of his two angels. Trowa was more of a comforting presence, although when the larger cat had something to say, it was usually important. "You're a smart kid, Harry. You shouldn't be so worried."

Duo, though, understood. He had felt that same apprehension that came with a lack of socialization, because even though he'd had his gang, adults had been something else entirely. And he could also understand Harry's reluctance to learn, as the boy felt himself incapable of doing so. Many street kids had felt the same way.

"I can't read," Harry stated plainly.

Trowa gave a small sigh, but Duo decided to take this one. "Harry, did you know that before we were angel-cats, Trowa and I were human?" Harry blinked and shook his head, stunned by that revelation. "Well, we were. And we didn't have parents or families or anything either. Well, I didn't. I grew up on the streets. Trowa was taken in by a group of…people who helped raise him." Probably better not to bring up the subject of mercenaries with a six year old.

"Really?" Harry mumbled, feeling sad that his two friends were much the same as him.

"Uh huh," Duo answered. "And you know what? I didn't learn how to read until I was eight. Ish. I don't really know how old I was at that time. Still don't know. Trowa? When did you learn how to read?"

The tabby gave an odd sort of shrug. "I don't know. I can't remember anything from before I was around seven. But I've always known how to read."

Harry stared down at his furry friend. "You don't remember?"

Trowa shook his head. "No. I got hurt and now I can't remember." He didn't feel like explaining the effects of amnesia at that moment, and he knew that sometime in the future Harry would question him again about it.

"That's sad," Harry whispered.

**Never finished. This one spawned a challenge that's floating around this site somewhere. I had it fully planned out as well...**


	28. Stargate SG1

**Werewolf thing:**

Jack came to in the small cell an immediately groaned. He remembered going through the 'gate with his team and almost immediately being ambushed. Sitting up with a wince, he opened his eyes and looked around. "Carter? Teal'c?" Daniel was nowhere to be seen.

"Sir?" Carter grimaced. "What happened?"

"I believe we were set upon but an unknown enemy, Major Cater," Teal'c answered as he stood and began studying the cell walls.

"What he said," Jack mumbled with a frown. He didn't want to admit it, but he was really beginning to worry about Daniel. "Any idea how to get out of here and find Danny?"

Sam looked up at him, opening her mouth to undoubtedly answer. However, before she could make a sound, the cell door opened and a limp form was thrown in . The door clanged shut, but Jack was already kneeling by Daniel, despite the persistent ache in his knees.

Daniel clearly wasn't conscious, his shirt and shoes missing. He was pale, shaking, and cold to the touch. "Sir," Carter murmured. "He's in shock. We need to get him warmed up." Jack gave a distracted nod, pulling off his jacket and wrapping Daniel in it. When the added warmth of the three jackets didn't seem to help, Jack gave in and gathered Daniel into his arms, holding the archeologist to his chest.

"What's causing the shock, Carter?" Jack asked lowly. "He's not injured."

Sam shook her head. "It could be any number of things," she replied.

Daniel tensed suddenly, going rigid in Jack's hold. The colonel looked down at him, frowning in concern. "Danny?" Daniel gave a low groan, his back arching. "Carter?" Jack asked, glancing up.

Carter's brow furrowed in concern, and Teal'c watched, standing stoically over them. And suddenly Daniel's groans morphed into screams. Jack tightened his hold on the writhing man, trying to keep Daniel from injuring himself. His screams were fueled with a pain that the others couldn't comprehend, and it was worrying them beyond belief.

"Sir!" Carter's shocked exclamation startled him into noticing what she had. A blackness was seeping into Daniel's skin, except that it was coming from nowhere. The black ink like substance, though, was creating intricate designs around Daniel's neck and across his collarbones. His wrists carried the same designs, as did his ankles. It looked almost Celtic in design, but that was Daniel's field of expertise, so Jack couldn't be sure.

As soon as the tattoos were finished embedding themselves into Daniel's flesh, his screaming ended. Daniel gasped for breath, tears staining his cheeks as he trembled in Jack's arms Blue eyes were open and holding a feverish gleam as he grasped Jack's shirt as though it were his only lifeline. "J'ck?"

"I gotcha Danny," Jack muttered, and Daniel buried his face in the colonel's neck. "Carter?"

"I don't know, sir," she replied, biting her lip. "We need to get him back to Janet."

The door opened again and a man stepped in, looking over the group with a feral smile. His eyes lingered on Daniel and he gave a malicious grin, snapping out an order to the guards that had followed him. Teal'c gave a displeased rumble, his muscles tensing, but it was the low, feral growl from Daniel that startled them all.

Blue eyes were glaring at the men with such hostility that they faltered in their advance to grab him. The leader snapped something else, and Daniel suddenly moved.

With a quickness that none of the other members of SG1 had ever witnessed from him, Daniel dispatched the guards and had his hand around the leader's throat in seconds. He growled something in the language the people had been using, and then tossed the man into the wall, as though he weighed nothing.

**Never finished, been sitting on it forever. Daniel has been turned into a massive werewolf thing. His wolf form reaches Jack's shoulder and has the same tattoo markings that he does.**


	29. Alex Rider vs SCORPIA

**You've Got to Be Kidding**

**An Alex Rider fic.**

Alex was terribly focused on ignoring the sirens. He was busy-They were in the middle of football practice-he couldn't afford to be distracted. But when the sirens got louder, and the police cars crowded around the back across the street, all the other boys on the team looked over. It seemed that there was a robbery in progress. Alex shifted, spying a familiar red-head among the group of police officers.

Perhaps it was more than your normal bank robbery, then.

John Davis, one of Alex's largest tormentors at school, who unfortunately was on the team, noticed the teen spy's discomfort. "Oi, Rider. You afraid the cops are gonna see you and pick you up for dealing?" he taunted, eliciting a chorus of snickers from the others. Tom Harris, Alex's best friend and the only one there who knew of Alex's double life, rolled his eyes.

Alex, however, said nothing. Fifteen minutes later, they were still watching as the police were obviously at a stalemate. The couch had long ago given up any attempts to get the boys back into practice. Alex was about to relax his guard when the red-head finally spotted him, running across the street. "Alex!"

"What?" Alex asked as Ben Daniels slid to a stop in front of him. "What do you want, Ben?"

"We need your help," Ben explained, glancing at the other boys before focusing on the blond spy again. He had been part of the SAS unit Alex had trained with before his last mission, as well as the MI6 agent that had helped him out on a couple of missions.

"Isn't this a job for the police?" Alex asked with a sigh, tossing the black and white ball between his hands.

Ben rolled his eyes, switching abruptly to Chinese. "MI6 has been after the robbers for weeks. There's nearly forty hostages inside and you're the only one small enough to fit through the vents."

"You suck," Alex replied in the same language, much to the surprise of his teammates. He tossed the ball to Tom and waved at Ben. "Lead the way."

Ben nodded and the two made their way across the street to the police cars, despite the coach's yells. "Told you the police would get him," Davis muttered.

"They needed his help," James pointed out weakly.

Alex nodded, slipping into the kevlar vest, as Ben explained that there were six robbers who had been attacking banks. The money was being used to fund SCORPIA, actually, and that was enough reason for Alex to want to take them out. He didn't however, have to be happy about it. "I should get paid for this crap," he muttered darkly, strapping a gun to his thigh.

Ben blinked in surprise. "MI6 doesn't pay you?!"

Alex shot him a dark look, pulling on some gloves. "What? You think I'd be doing this if I wasn't blackmailed into it?" he asked incredulously. "They don't pay me." He turned away before Ben could say anything, eyeing the side of the building. He'd have to scale the wall, unscrew the vent cover nearly 28 feet up, and slip inside, all without being noticed.

Piece of cake.

"Cub," Ben called. "…Be careful."

**Never finished.**


	30. YYH SG1

**YYH/SG1 Xover (No working title as of yet)**

Despite the fact that Yusuke and Kurama were powerful S class demons, Koenma still had the habit of calling on them for missions. His father, obviously, was not too pleased by that, but even Enma had to admit that the two detectives were good at what they did, and they obviously didn't want to see any harm done to the Ningenkai. Kuwabara had moved on to go to college (something which both Kurama and Yusuke saw no need in doing), and Hiei tended to be busy with border-control, so that left the other two demons to do Koenma's bidding.

So when the present situation of a faction of the American government made its way across Koenma's desk, he immediately called those two. As it was, they were rather baffled by the newest mission. Demons they could handle. Ghosts were rather easy. Aliens, though…that was stretching it slightly.

Koenma had merely sighed and asked if there could be three worlds based around one planet, why couldn't there be many more just scattered about? Honestly, that had been a very good question, which had led both the redhead and the punk to be seated in the Starbucks in Colorado Springs.

"Must I explain this to you again, Yusuke?" Kurama sighed, running a hand though his long hair.

Yusuke gave a small smirk. "Nah, man. I got it. I just like seeing the former thief all flustered."

At this, Kurama gave a smirk, green eyes alight with mirth. "There's nothing former about my title, Yusuke. I pulled off a heist just a couple of days ago."

"Oh?" Yusuke asked, intrigued. "How much?"

Kurama's smile was slightly sinister, and Yusuke was reminded that his amiable friend was a demon. "About four million. American."

"Nice."

**Never finished and I've had this one for YEARS... It's an intriguing idea though now that I've found it again...**


	31. Harry Potter Twilight

**Harry Potter Twilight X-Over**

Sixteen year old Harry Potter was curled up in Remus Lupin's lap. The werewolf continuously ran his fingers through his charge's white-streaked black hair, making it even messier than before. But it was soothing Harry, who needed all the comfort he could get.

They had lost so much at the Battle of Hogwarts. Ron and Hermione, who had stayed by his side throughout the entirety of the war, had both died from their injuries soon after Harry had killed Voldemort. Other deaths had left Harry with hardly anyone to lean on.

The only ones that really remained were Remus, Sirius, Draco and Luna. The latter two had joined harry in a sibling-bonding ritual in fifth year, after Harry had gotten Draco away from his father in third. Pretending to hate each other for the duration of two years had been fun, if a little trying at times. And Luna, oddly enough, had helped to come up with most of the insults.

Draco and Luna, as it were, were sitting on the couch opposite of Harry and Remus. Luna's hair, much like Harry's, was streaked with white, and a fresh scar scored a line down Draco's cheek, from temple to jaw. They, like Harry, were tired and grieving, and had nowhere else to go.

"Sirius and I will meet up with you soon," Remus was explaining. "the house is already ready to be lived in, and you three are signed up at the local high school." He paused, amber eyes gazing at the three teens wearily. "Just try to relax. Be normal teenagers."

"Normal is a relative word," Luna said softly. She was no longer using the dreamy voice or the strange comments. She no longer had to hide her Sight, as all those in the room were aware of it.

"At least try," Remus said, kissing Harry's head and setting the boy on his feet.

"Where are we going?" Draco asked, because he knew Harry would like to know. Harry, however, hadn't spoken a word since the last battle; post traumatic stress or something like that.

"Forks, Washington," Remus answered, handing the aristocratic blond the port-key. He watched as Luna warped her arms around Harry, and touched the port-key as well.

"What Did they name the town next to it Spoons?" Draco asked haughtily, a small hint of his old sneer on his face.

Remus gave a light smile. "Be safe."

And then they were gone.

* * *

The house was large, but comfortable. Set back in the trees outside of town, they were pretty sure no one would bother them terribly much. The house itself was a large Victorian with two stories and a tower with a third. It was painted a cheery yellow, with white trimmings and a red door.

Inside it was elegant, but comfortable. There were pictures of the teens lining the walls, none of them moving, and paintings of fantastical creatures and scenes. The kitchen was fully stocked, the bedrooms painted and arranged according to their desires. They had everything they needed.

Except, perhaps, what they craved the most.

Normality was hard to come by when you're a war-torn sixteen-year-old hero.

Harry dropped onto the leather sofa, drawing himself into a ball as Luna wandered into the kitchen to make up some dinner. Draco watched her for a moment before sitting next to Harry and pulling him close. "Guess what," he murmured to his little brother. "We're in the middle of a tiny muggle town in the middle of nowhere on a continent across the ocean from Britain. The Death Eaters aren't smart enough to locate us, and the Ministry by far isn't."

**Never finished. Not slash. The Cullens and wolves sort of adopt the teens.**


End file.
